Strategos & Sitiah
by ArsinoetheXVII
Summary: AU A retelling of the Cleopatra story. COMPLETE Strategos, the Emperor of Gaea, faces off against the legendary queen of Egypt as Van faces his feelings for a certain Prophetess. Historical notes included.
1. Preview

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note: A Preview of Strategos And Sitiah

This is my take on the story of Cleopatra. I've researched her for several years and tried to learn as much as I can.  However, researchers still debate on the times and events of the woman's life. This fiction therefore cannot be quoted perfectly accurate. I shall however share information I've learned about Cleopatra the VII to the best of my ability. Please let me know your own opinions of her along the way. Don't hesitate to share information with me that you yourself have seen. If anyone has exceptionally good sources feel free to email me.  In the meantime let me warn you that to fit with Escaflowne and place my own creative seal on this fiction, I plan to take as many plot twists as possible, that may or may not be associated to the events in Cleopatra's own life. This fiction is purely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of other Escaflowne fans.  I hope you enjoy it.  And so as not to disappoint anyone almost all characters from the series will appear in this fiction.  I'm hoping for big support and some new friendship.  I'm a big fan of Egyptology, and have studied it for a while, if anyone feels like sharing any obscure info, please email me!

Thank you.

Quick Note: Seducing Setesh is also an Egypt fiction, but may not be continued if it coincides too much with this.

Big Thanks To: **Otaku Pitcher** and **Harmony** whose positive reviews of Seducing Setesh inspired me to post this fiction. Thank you so much!

 Preview:

          What if there was never an emperor by the name of Dornkirk? What if Folken had slain the dragon, becoming King of Fanelia?

Then there would be a different story. And Gaea's history would be much changed, and recorded differently by the philosophers and historians of the Great Age.

Perhaps it would become like a myth, a myth that started with one man and ended with one woman…

          Folken Fanel at sixteen years old was a man of great ambition.  He had passed all tests, and become ruling King of Fanelia. His legend however did not grow until he marched his army into Asturia with the courage and confidence to conquer it entirely.  This boy, turned man, swept through all of Gaea, and with his military strategy and cunning sense brought the countries to their knees under the Fanelian flag.  On his way he had acquired vast wealth, military strength, and land.  His name was fast becoming a legend as the bards picked up the story of the boy king from a humble nation who had turned the world upside down.  Wherever he went, victory followed, as well as fortune and fame.  Under his rule he secured alliances with those he'd conquered allowing the leaders to hold their titles, but keeping them under his flag.  His petitions for peace became holy edicts in the eyes of those who thought him a god.  And his enemies cowered and submitted to his will, bitter in their defeat.  His loyal soldiers were placed in every country to keep the peace and insure the security of his won territory.  By the age of twenty-three, Folken Lacour De Fanel, was being worshipped as the greatest conqueror to hold Gaea under single power.  He was a god to his people.  He was the very life of Fanelia.

          The Prince of Fanelia was content as a soldier under his brother's command.  He was the general over his own division, honored by the titles his brother bestowed upon him.  Van Fanel had trained since he was able to hold a sword.  A brave and skillful warrior he fought by his brother's side to bring glory to his kingdom.  He was as well trained in hand-to-hand combat as he was in melef fighting.  With every battle he fought his titles increased as well as the love of his troops.  But he was not the only one sweating and toiling to become as great as his brother.

          With authority over all military divisions, Dilandau Albatou found himself in constant competition with the Prince.  First in training, then on the battlefield, and finally in the Fanelian Court the two struggled to outdo the other.  His tact, however, outweighed that of his rival and he was named General of the Fanelian Legions.  He was thrust into a military position even higher than the Prince.  But still though he had the respect of many of his own troops he was an outsider.  Originally from the country known as Zaibach, he was still considered a foreigner, and for that reason he was looked down upon at court.  He was given several honors, but it was the Prince who continued to be treated with greater favor.  But because he had a desire to be the best at everything, a desire like a consuming flame within, he looked for every way possible for him to gain the favor Van Fanel had cheated him from.

          One country stood apart from all the others however.  One place as different from Fanelia as night is to day, remained free of Fanelian soldiers.  It was secured by an alliance with the Emperor of Fanelia as an independent nation, yet it began to stir with unrest.  One woman exiled to the desert of her land, craved her home's complete freedom.  She struggled against those of her own blood for a crown that was rightfully hers.  And in the hushed desert nights she sat and pondered the key to her success.  Her cleverness matched by none she began to see the root of her salvation.  Fanelia held the world of Gaea in its hands, and it was those hands that she knew would save her nation from ruin. 

          The woman's maid meanwhile dreamt of the second moon high in the spaces beyond Gaea's reaches.  She'd been told that she'd been called from there to serve the woman who would change Gaea forever.  A girl with power she was, and a gift to the incarnation of a goddess to whom she'd been sent.  She was not a slave, nor was she free, for her heart spoke to her of the future that she would face with her Queen.  Her heart spoke of the trials that she would face, the danger that would nip at her heels wherever she would go, and of the love she would find at the end of the journey.  Love was the thing she closed her eyes to dream of in the cool desert nights.  One face would bring joy to her dreams like no other, as well as chill her blood like nothing ever had.  This beautiful man would bring with him the master of the known world.  And for that, she feared him.  But with this fear came the desperate want to enfold him in her arms.  Dare she dream that this foreigner could love her and accept the fact that she was bound to one that might become his enemy?

AN:

Please review if this fiction seems of interest you. I wish to have your interest before I put great work into this fiction. Let me know what you think. Please review.


	2. Sand and Sea

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    Shutting her eyes against the torchlight she took a deep breath, inhaling the holy scent of myrrh.  She had known that incense ever since she had been taken under the wings of the priestesses.  _No._ She pushed the thoughts of her younger days aside. _Concentrate._  She slowed her breathing taking her time to inhale and exhale smoothly. 

The pink stone had not yet appeared to her yet, but she refused to be discouraged.  _Please Thoth, who opened Mother Eset's eyes to magic, let mine be opened as well._  Her will begged for a vision in the darkness behind her eyes.  She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter waiting for sight of the stone. 

Suddenly a magenta light shown in the black, like a bright flash of power against the emptiness.  The pendant formed, fully appeared, and swung twice, back and forth.  A ship upon the Great Green pushed across the waves.  The feel of a man's energy came from the deck of the ship.  But all she could see were the deep brown-red eyes sharp with strength and intelligence.  Eyes so like ones she only dreamed of… They were the same color.  _The same…_ The images wavered.  _Oh, no! No! Concentrate!_ She demanded.  But it was too late.  She'd allowed it to slip, to fade from her sight.  She clutched at the pendant at her chest.  The vision was gone like the slowly curling smoke of the incense that disappeared into the night.  Her eyes opened reluctantly, their turquoise color sparkling with regret, and pleading for forgiveness.

"Has she seen him? Is he coming? How far is he from Alexandria?" Her mistress asked the excitement in her voice overflowing.

          Lady Mitylene, High Priestess of Eset,  looked down at the forlorn figure on her knees.  Then bowing to the lady replied softly, "No, my lady. Your Prophetess has seen nothing."

"Oh." The disappointment in the queen's voice was obvious though she tried to make it light.  She looked down at the intricate designs on the carpet, her eyes sad though they beheld such beauty.  Her head raised and she ordered quietly, "You have my leave, Priestess."

"Thank you, Majesty. I will come tomorrow to fetch the Prophetess for our morning training." The priestess made her obeisance and went to the tent flap followed by her two girl servants.  There was a rustle as the tent was opened and fell closed leaving the queen alone with her most prized servant.  The incense on the altar had gone out, though the perfumed smell still lingered.  It was thick and sweet, almost overwhelmingly so, but both women were used to the fragrance.

"Come Isadora, walk with me." The queen said.  The girl lowered herself until her forehead touched the ground before the altar than stood as she was commanded.  She went out behind the queen into the sand.  Immediately two guards fell in behind them as they strolled past the tents towards the open desert, away from the oasis. 

When they were well enough away the woman questioned hopefully, "Did you see nothing for us, Isa?"

"No, Majesty, nothing that we didn't yet know." Isadora sighed kicking at the sand lightly as she walked.

"Hmmm." The queen murmured in response.  She stopped to look up at vast fullness of the sky.

Isadora looked at the woman that was her mistress, her queen, and felt a deep guilt balling in her stomach.  "I'm so sorry, my lady, I was distracted again." She hung her head in shame as her fists clenched.  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she stubbornly forced them back with a swallow.

"It is all right, my Prophetess. Perhaps we are not yet meant to see what will become of our exile." The queen's voice remained patient in its gracious warmth.

"I saw the ship, my lady. And the eyes of Strategos," Isadora mentioned optimistically, watching her friend's face.

The queen's head lowered and she stared in front of her for a long time.  Her eyes lit with interest she turned to her servant with a smile, "Tell me of his eyes. I have heard they are black as obsidian when he is angry. And gray when he is calculating his moves."

Isadora shook her head, a smile sweeping over her features, "No, my queen. They are brown. Red-brown, like cinnamon spice! They are beautiful, Majesty!"

"Ahhh," The queen clicked her tongue with a knowing smile, "So, they are much the same as the Prince's."

A blush colored the girl's cheeks and her eyes fell to the sand beneath her feet.  Hesitantly she replied, "No, my lady…His are different somehow. The color is the same- and the confidence in them that is similar, but…the Emperor-his eyes are cold- always planning. There is mirth hidden there, but it does not show as much. His eyes are-impending-like he has too many secrets and with no one to share them."  She pursed her lips wondering what it was her lady thought as she watched her eyes narrow.

"Too many secrets…" The queen murmured to herself watching as the wind picked up the grains of sand in the distance. 

_Have faith young goddess. _The wind carried whispers to her across the dunes.  It was a stirring voice, one of infinite wisdom, like the kind that filled dreams with coming knowledge._  He will share his secrets with you. It is destiny._ Sitiah Mekhare Yasmin Ptolemy found herself trusting the voices that mysteriously called to her.  She smiled her eyes glittering like jewels in the dimming light, her heart already seeing things that would fill her emotions in the future.

                    "What news?" The Emperor asked as he gazed out at the clear sea, leaning his hands on the deck rail.  Fresh breezes wafted across the cerulean waters carrying the ship swiftly toward the awaiting city, still a day away.

"Nothing new I'm afraid, Strategos. King Ptolemy's army still waits to engage Sitiah's. Nothing has happened, the queen seems unwilling as of yet to make a move." Allen Schezar, the emperor's most trusted officer, reported.

Strategos' eyes narrowed as he "hmmed" to himself quietly.  "So, the princess still hides in the desert." He commented, more to himself than to his officers.

Gaddes, a sentry tugging at the ropes that secured the sails, laughed, "I don't know, Emperor, I wouldn't call her a princess. And I wouldn't exactly say she's hiding."

"Oh yeah," Allen smiled clasping his hands behind his back, "And why is that?"

"Well as rumor has it," Gaddes grunted tying off the end, "She's out there conjuring some black magic to poison her brother and his troops."  

The Emperor smirked, "Oh really. I didn't think you were a superstitious man."  Gaddes frowned stepping back as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"It's not that, Emperor. It's more that she's been out there for months in that hellish desert, trying to organize a military out of a few guards and the local tribesmen. She's managed to conscript some mercenaries, but it looks like there is little hope of winning in any battle against Ptolemy's army. I mean that there has to be something- mysterious- special- about a woman who can stand life in a rugged tent while trying to set up a rag-tag battalion. Besides in her mind she is a queen." The officer shrugged.  He took the cup of wine Allen offered him and downed it with a gulp.

"Yes well, all I'm worried about is stopping these damned civil wars, and making it out of Alexandria alive." Folken said.  He had not moved from his position at the rail, still intent on the white city in the distance.

Allen smiled slowly, "I'm sure you wouldn't be opposed to making it back to Fanelia soon and that pretty princess-wife you left behind."

Strategos smirked with a snort of derision, "If you think she's so pretty, Captain, why didn't you marry her?"

"Why, Princess Eries wasn't offered to me. Besides, political marriages aren't my style." Allen laughed strolling farther down the deck.

"You always did like to keep yourself free to attract the attention of every young girl from Alexandria to Godashim." Strategos muttered with a half smile.  He shook his head glancing at the captain of the ship.  He sighed watching as a school of brightly colored fish hurried by in the crystalline sea.  The sun seemed to dance across the great waters dispersing every shadow so that you could see into the ultramarine depths.  Folken's mind wandered from the delight of the Mediterranean to the wedding that had taken place several months before.

True, his bride had been beautiful, but the beauty could not mask her dislike for the man she was to marry.  It was her father that had pushed at such a marriage to keep the peace between Fanelia and Asturia.  It was not that King Aston had been threatening a war otherwise, it was only that he feared that if there was nothing to bind the Emperor to their agreement he would lose all rights as king.  So to calm his fears, Folken had accepted his offer of taking the man's eldest daughter as his legal wife. 

The ceremony had been on a cold day in the capitol, when the wind was sharp and whistled through the buildings and trees.  That day the gods seemed almost angry as the fierce breeze tore at the carefully prepared decorations, and shoved relentlessly at the crowd that had gathered to witness the royal wedding. 

He remembered how stiff the princess' lips had been against his when the priest had called out, "You may kiss your bride."  There was no softness in Eries' lips when he had bent and gently pressed his to hers.  Her eyes had been empty, devoid of any emotion, though she managed a weak smile for the crowd when they had been presented as Emperor and Empress of Gaea. 

Afterwards all of the citizens had been driven back to their homes because of the storm that had whipped up.  The royals and high members of the court along with their families had fled to the security of the palace for the banquet.  The feast that had been prepared for the citizens was quickly divided among families and sent to their homes.  Within the palace the wedding feast went as all feasts, with loud music drowned slightly by the chatter of people about the room lit by chandeliers and sconces.  Wine as well as mead was flowing all night into the chalices, crystal stemware, and mugs.  Food was constantly being brought into the hall steaming and perfectly prepared.  There were of course entertainers, and the occasional lord and lady that became obnoxiously drunk.  And the rain had pelted the windows and could just barely be heard on the roof over the bustle of the feast.  Lightning jagged across the sky blazing silver light into the rooms, but the guests paid no mind. 

Folken and Eries had eaten side by side on golden thrones raised on a dais overlooking the hall.  They did not speak to one another, except to comment on the weather or ask how the other was enjoying the revelry.  That evening, when the two had had enough of the joyful atmosphere and drunken clatter, they said goodnight and retired to the master bedroom.  Within the chamber Eries had immediately asked to be discreetly dismissed to her own room on the other side of the castle.  Folken weary and slightly addled with wine consented with a wave of his hand and watched as the Empress and her servants exited through a passageway.  He'd been glad that she'd had enough sense to take the passage, instead of bursting from the main doors and causing a stir in the palace as well as inciting rumors.  The Emperor had then stumbled onto his bed and fallen into a dead sleep. 

He'd slept until a few hours before the sun had broken the sky. Awakened by the Prince with an urgent dispatch he'd immediately jumped from the bed ordering for clothes to be brought.  It seemed that one of his rivals, Pompey, had fled Fanelia to get support against Folken.  His mind was alive at once, the feeling of being in a stupor fading with the night.  He'd gathered his officers and generals making plans to leave that morning. 

He could still recall the scent of Eries' perfume as she had bowed before him kissing his hands.  She'd wished him well and promised her prayers for his safe journey, then turned and left the dock with her ladies.  Since then he had only received letters informing him of the political goings-on of Fanelia, of which only a small handful were from her. 

He'd met up with Pompey's forces in Espania, managing to win a victory there, but tailing him to Dyrrhachium where he had to retreat.  However Strategos won a battle in Thessalia, which brought Pompey to their latest destination: Egypt.

"Good morning brother!" Van clasped him on the shoulder bringing him back to the ship slicing through the sea.

Folken smiled teasing lightly as he ruffled his brother's hair, "Morning for you is when the sun is past its zenith! What kept you?"

Van laughed darting away from the Emperor, "I'm sorry if dawn doesn't call to me as it does you, your Highness!"

"Dawn is when a man can do his thinking before the day sweeps him up in its worries." Folken replied.

Van shook his head rolling his eyes, "There are no worries when you wake as late as I."  He stretched, his muscles flexing as he brought his arms over his head.  The tan of his skin glowed in the afternoon rays.

"Lord Prince," A young girl scolded, "It is barely afternoon and you waltz out here without your shirt on!"  She tossed a red shirt to him and then watched as he laughed and put it on.  Her hands on her hips she frowned, "You'll burn in this damned heat."  Remembering herself, she blinked and turned to the Emperor bowing, "Your majesty."

Folken smiled softly, "Good morning, Lady Merle. Did you sleep well?"

"Sleep well?" She scowled, her nose wrinkling in disgust, "On this hunk of trash? It's hardly fit for that gluttonous King Aston! It certainly is not fitting for an emperor and his royal brother!"  She tossed her long pink braid as she shook her head, "No sire, I did not sleep well, just as I have not slept well for the last god forsaken months!"  The sailors by that point were chuckling at her comments, charmed by the outspoken servant girl. 

Folken turned to stare at her in amusement, folding his arms over his broad chest as he leaned back against the rail, "I'm sorry to hear that, my lady."  He watched as she crossed her arms as well with a curt nod.  She wore a white belted tunic that fell to her knees, and green riding pants that clung to her girlish legs as well as a pair of brown ankle boots.  _Forever the tomboy._  He smiled to himself.

"Come, Lady Merle, your words wound me. My ship is as fine as that of General Albatou's." Allen had wandered toward the group.  He fixed Merle with a suave smile, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Ha!" She retorted turning to her left to face the man.  "You have never seen the General's ship then! I maintain that this is a poor vessel for any royal- or noble for that matter- to be tossed about in!"

"Well," Allen's smile widened, his eyes taking on a teasing spark, "Perhaps you would care to try out my quarters for a night, my lady."  The men burst into guffaws, hooting and hollering at the unseemly comment, while Merle's temper flared and her face turned a rosy color.

She glared at him, trying to hide her embarrassment, but doing a poor job of it.  "I would rather jump overboard and sleep with the fish!" She spat, and turned on her heal to stalk back to the cabins below as the crew roared with laughter.

"I'm afraid you've managed to intensify her hatred of you." Van said frowning with mock sympathy.

"Yeah, Captain, I think Merle may be a bit tougher to woo than most women." Gaddes smiled back at Allen from the helm.

"You'll be in for it when you try your charm in Egypt. It may be a Greek city, but its home to people from all over the east. And if the women are all like those native to Egypt than you ought to watch your step. Women have more rights there." One of the crew mentioned lifting a crate by the stairs that led below deck.

"Perhaps it is our Emperor you should warn. He will after all intercede about the civil strife that has been going on. And if Sitiah is as mysterious, as Gaddes says, than Strategos might be in for more trouble than I." Allen watched his emperor grimace and turn away.

"I've heard it's her handmaiden one should be afraid of," Reeden nodded eagerly appearing from the hold, "They say she's got some kind of sorcery."

"What sort of sorcery?" Van addressed the man, nudging his brother lightly.

"They say its witchery from the- **_Mystic_** **_Moon_**…" He replied in a cryptic tone, "The queen never goes anywhere without her."

"The Mystic Moon?" Van frowned curiously.  He hadn't heard of the myths about the place for quite awhile, at least not since he was a young boy.

His brother's voice interrupted any reverie he was bound for, "We should be thinking about the opposition. Women are a matter to worry over after we have defeated Pompey!"  The crew of the Crusade and the soldiers of Folken's personal regiment shouted with enthusiasm, their minds turning to the thought of battle.

                                                  Historical Note:

I've changed some of the names of countries to fit the story.  As for Pompey, he was a real man that tried to oppose Gaius Julius Caesar (b. 100 B.C.).  Also note that Caesar is a family name, Julius Caesar was not the first. As for the name Ptolemy that is also a part of history. Cleopatra was a member of the Ptolemaic dynasty.  She was not a true Egyptian woman.  Her family had come from Greek-Macedonia.  Many believed she had ties to Alexander the Great. Her family had ruled for many generations after Alexander conquered Egypt, and made it apart of his vast empire.  The Ptolemy that Cleopatra battled for the thrown was the XIII.  Cleopatra as well was a name that had been used before over the generations, but Cleopatra the VII (born somewhere around 69 B.C.) is the most renowned.  When Cleopatra's father, Ptolemy the XII (also called Auletes), died, his son and daughter took power sharing the throne.  They were young at the time and under the wings of men that had turned their backs on the dead king.  These deceitful advisors convinced Ptolemy the XIII to take all power from Cleopatra and threaten her life.  She fled to safety in the desert where she waited for the best time to strike.  Meanwhile, Pompey had gone to Alexandria seeking help, with Caesar hot on his trail.  Unfortunately, the officials in Egypt thought it better to kill Pompey to please Caesar.  However when Caesar arrived he was distressed to receive the box with his rival's head in it.  According to most, Caesar had great respect for Pompey, and even wept over his opponent's brutal betrayal.  It is said that he was enraged by the act and had the men involved in the murder put to death.

Author's Note:

I know I have left out a few details on the history part, but don't worry I'll get it all to ya! That's it for now. Please keep reviewing. Isn't it odd that Folken is married? And what about Sitiah, what's her true destiny with Strategos?


	3. Destination: Alexandria

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    Pressing her lips to the cold silver ring upon her finger, the queen paced her chamber frowning irritably.  Her handmaiden sat upon the Persian carpet her hands in her lap as she watched the woman anxiously.  A tabby kitten of gold, black, and brown pounced upon the blue linen belt the prophetess teased him with.  The Prophetess smiled lightly down at the kitten that had sprung upon the end of the ribbon, only to bounce backwards and spring again.  She looked up at her lady an expression of worry upon her face as she studied the woman's frustrated features.

"My lady, please, it is late and you are tired. Perhaps if you rest you will think of something- or perhaps the gods will grant you a dream…" Isadora said hopefully.

In exasperation the queen threw up her hands crying, "There is no time! Strategos will arrive tomorrow! My scouts have seen his ship, and his fleet! I cannot let my brother have an advantage by speaking to him first! I **_have_** to find a way into the palace, to demand an audience." She finished with a huff dropping onto her couch.

Isadora winced and looked at the floor only to look back up at the queen pleadingly, "Sitiah, you cannot **_demand_** anything of Strategos; he is the Emperor."

Folding her arms across her chest indignantly she rose, "And why not? It is my palace by right!"  She wandered to stand near her servant staring down at her waiting for a reply.  Isadora only nodded and gazed down at the kitten.  Sitiah sighed; feeling the weariness in her body she gracefully sank to the carpet to lay on her side one elbow propped up, one side of her face resting in her hand.  "I know I cannot go in there demanding things of him. But I must establish myself as the rightful ruler of Egypt…And I must find a way into the palace." She sadly watched the kitten as he strutted across the carpet proudly, having defeated the "snake" that threatened him. 

There was a companionable silence that fell between the two women.  Both knew that it was going to be a challenge getting into the palace that had been secured with guards loyal to Ptolemy.  Men on the borders waited to find the exiled princess only to have her brought to the palace for her execution.

Isadora shivered at the thought and glanced at the queen.  Imagining the slender beauty in chains on her knees before her younger brother brought a sudden tenseness to her limbs.  She swallowed blinking the thought away. 

Her attention went back to the little cat that had caught his claws in one of the tassels of the rug and was struggling to get it out.  He plopped down on his back fighting with the strings as he rolled.  However, he was too entangled and the edges of the carpet began to curl in on him.  Isadora couldn't stop the giggle that rose in her throat.  She allowed herself a few chuckles shaking her head.  But abruptly inhaled sharply looking wide-eyed at the queen who had turned to her with a similar expression.

"We've shared a thought, Prophetess," Sitiah stared at the girl in awe.  She slowly began to grin, "Yes, we have, haven't we?"

"Yes!" Isadora replied excitedly, "And-" She cut off seeing the flash of a scene before her eyes.  She beheld the queen lying upon the very same carpet at the feet of a figure in the shadows.  "And it will work!" She gasped as the eyes she hadn't known she'd closed, flew open.

Sitiah laughed richly sitting up and reaching for the kitten, "Ah, my all-seeing friend! What would I do without you?"

Isadora beamed as she watched her queen untangle the animal and hug him to her, "You will pass through the palace unnoticed!"  The woman again laughed holding the kitten up to see him.

She smiled, her eyes brilliant with delight, "Child of Bast you have shown me a way! You will live with me in the palace and lap cream from a golden bowl encrusted with emeralds!" She cuddled the confused, but happy kitten in her arms again.

"He is certainly a gift from the goddess herself." Isadora nodded eagerly.

The queen smiled at her then called, "Daemon!"

A young guard appeared immediately, he bowed, "Yes, my queen."

   "Bring me a dish of goat's milk, and my general. When you've returned remain here until I dismiss you." She said intent on the cat purring against her.

"As you wish, Majesty." He bowed and quickly exited to do her bidding with a smile.

"Thank you!" She called after him, shaking her head at his speedy departure.  She turned to look at Isadora, "This night we prepare to depart. I must be on my way to Alexandria."

"I will stay here until all is finished and it is safe." Isadora assured her though she looked down with a small frown.

"Do not look so depressed, Isa! I will make it into the palace as you said!" The queen looked at her anxiously.  _She must have faith! Otherwise it is useless!_

"I know lady, but you still have to convince Strategos." The girl looked up her apple green eyes darkened by her concern.

Sitiah stayed quiet seeing the question in Isadora's eyes.  Her servant wanted to be reassured that her mistress was thinking clearly.  The queen's gaze shifted as doubt began to cloud over the joy.  "I have to try. I was meant to be Egypt's ruler. My father said so before he died." She said softly.

"Your majesty, it is I, Setepenre, come at your command." A male voice from outside the tent announced.

The queen quickly passed the young cat to her servant and got to her feet.  She smoothed the Doric chiton she wore and tossed her hair back over her shoulders.  "Yes, please come in, General." She raised her chin slightly and waited.

He bowed as he entered then went down on one knee before her, "Majesty, queen, I am your servant."  He wore a tradition kilt with a gold belt, as well as a blue and white striped helmet with a gold band around his brow.  He was a handsome man in his thirties, with a strong build and wide shoulders.

She smiled at his humble greeting and replied, "Stand, General, there is no need for you to go to your knees before me, we are old friends." 

Indeed the General had known her since she was no more than a child, he being a young teen at the time.  He'd been a soldier in the imperial guard, his father being a high-ranking court official.  Before she had had to flee, Sitiah appointed Setepenre the general of Pharaoh's Men.  Having grown up with the man she trusted him with her life, and he had helped her and her sister escape the palace.

He rose to his feet with a smile on his dark Egyptian features, "I am much honored by that, Majesty."

Sitiah shook her head wagging her finger at him with a scolding smile, "Come Setepenre, enough of your formalities, my friend. I need your support now more than ever."  He glanced at Isadora who'd gotten to her feet and stood in the shadows holding to Bast's beloved.  She gave a nod of respect than looked at the queen. 

"Of course, Majesty." He said clasping his hands behind his back.  The guard that had gone to fetch the general slid into the tent quietly made a quick bow and went to Isadora's side, the bowl of milk in his hands.  Quietly Isadora bent, putting the kitten on the floor as the young man placed the bowl on the carpet.  They both stood straight again and kept quiet, waiting for orders.

"Will you have a cup of wine with me, Setepenre?" The queen asked as she glided to her couch.

"I'd like that, majesty." The man responded.  He watched as the queen's Prophetess quickly brought a stool for him.  He sat and waited as the girl poured wine into two cups from a silver pitcher.  Holding a tray she offered him a cup, which he took immediately.  Isadora made her way to the queen sitting rigidly on the couch.

"We have come up with a plan to bypass the border patrols and make our way into Alexandria," Sitiah said after taking a delicate sip of wine.

Setepenre frowned his black eyebrows drawing together in uncertainty, "Majesty, there are guards everywhere. If we made it past the border guard we would still have to risk being caught by the soldiers patrolling the city. Ptolemy has taken careful steps to be sure you will not enter Egypt."  He studied her face as she closed her eyes and opened them in pleasure.

"Yes, I know. But I have the assurance of my Prophetess that my plan will get me into the palace undetected." She spoke excitedly setting her cup down on the low table at her side.  Again the general's gaze wandered to Isadora and then back to the queen.  He'd never been a very superstitious man.  And to him magic was something only gods possessed.

"I see." He said patiently, expecting her to go on.

"You will carry me in a carpet as a gift to Strategos. And you, Daemon will be the messenger sent with the gift." She said confidently.  Setepenre and Daemon remained silent both in amazed disbelief.

"Majesty!" They both protested simultaneously.

                    Arsinoe pouted as she lounged on her couch waiting for her servant to return with the figs she had sent for.  She was tired and annoyed, swatting flies away with her jeweled whisk, unable to sleep.  The warmth of the desert was still considerable, and she found herself wiping away the sweat on her forehead with a silk cloth.  "Where is my fan bearer?" She snapped sitting up with a scowl.

"You sent him for the figs, your Highness." Answered a servant woman who was placing incense on the princess' shrine to Hathor. 

"Well stop burning all that incense! It makes my eyes water!" The girl hissed crossing her arms.  Just then her servant appeared with a tray in his hands, steadily walking toward her.  "How long does it take to get figs for your princess?" She shot at him angrily as he lowered to the floor before her.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she peered into the bowl to find only grapes.

"Did I not tell you to bring figs?" She questioned glaring at the man.

"Yes, your highness, but there are no more among the supplies, so I thought to bring you grapes instead. It's about all we have." He replied in his soft voice.

Her pretty features twisted with rage she knocked the tray from his hands with one swift blow, "Incompetent worm! I ask you for a simple thing and you bring me what I hate? I hate grapes!"  She was on her feet her cheeks flushed with rage suddenly ignoring the servant who had fallen forward on his face, his arms outstretched before him.  "Damn, my sister and her hellish desert! I am tired of being holed here in the middle of nowhere!" She screamed gesturing wildly.  "Get out! You presume too much. And bring a guard to be my fan bearer!" She spat at the now frightened man bowed to the floor like a toad. 

His voice muffled against the rug he said shakily, "Highness- your sister- the queen- has or-ordered that all guards stay on- watch."

Arsinoe's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and she clenched her fists.  "Do you think I care? Bring me a guard or I'll order you whipped, you flea!" She shouted.

The servant flinched visibly and whispered, "Yes, your highness."  He slowly crawled backwards away from her, never raising his eyes.  Scrambling out of the tent and her sight the man hurriedly got up and ran towards another tent.

                    It was obvious that the people of Alexandria were not relieved by Strategos' presence in their seaside city.  Nonetheless it was a welcome sight for the soldiers and crew who had been cramped upon the ships.  However, the beauty of the capitol was lost in a crowd of angry fellahin who shouted and cursed at their overlords.  It was a dangerous business riding through the mob to the palace.  Strategos' men had fanned out to keep the protestors back from the narrow road that he and his officials drove through in chariots toward the palace.  Once inside the walls, the doors shut, the people's threats still assaulted their ears.

Strategos strode forward into the palace with cool confidence his dark eyes burning through anyone who started to approach him.  "Spread my men out around the palace. Make sure all guards are replaced with my legionaries. I want this place secured. Send extra men out to calm the rioting." He ordered to the men that tried to keep up with his long stride. 

"Yes, Emperor." They all replied than dispersed to do their duties. 

"Kaid, see to it that the cavalry is shown to the barracks and housing for my legionaries is set up as well." He said to a young man with dark hair at his side.

"Yes, sir." The man smiled and turned on his heel.  The only men left by Folken's side and behind him were his brother, Merle (an exception to 'the only men'), Allen, Gaddes, two of his advisors, and a couple servants.

He stopped in the main hall his eyes narrowed as he peered at the golden throne empty, but for a pair of sandals. "Gaddes, find Ptolemy and his regency, bring them immediately. And all of you keep an eye out for Pompey. I didn't see any of his men, but his ships were in the harbor. He's here somewhere. See to it the other commanders give orders to their men to be on guard as well."

A man in a tunic and kilt rushed forward, his eyes painted with kohl and his head covered by a short black wig, though he was obviously Greek.  A gold pectoral lay on his collar, and his hands sparkled with the glint of gold rings holding precious stones.  On his thin arms he wore gold gauntlets and bracelets of gold on his upper arms.  He bowed to Strategos then looked up at the man.  His gray eyes were curious, and he smiled politely, "It is an immense honor, Great Strategos. I welcome you to Alexandria. I am Lord Thaddeus, Overseer of Pharaoh's staff. May I offer you wine and perhaps-"

"Enough. Pleasantries stand in the way of business," Strategos cut in impatiently, "Now, where is King Ptolemy?"

"He- is at Pelusium, Emperor, readying for a surprise attack by Sitiah." The man blinked frowning.  He was young, no more than twenty-two.  He looked slightly panicked by Strategos' sudden question.  Strategos sighed visibly unhappy with the news. 

He murmured to himself, "He's protecting his borders against his sister… He must really fear her return."

"No, Strategos," The man exclaimed his eyes wide, "Forgive me, but Pharaoh fears nothing. But he must defend his kingdom from his sister's greedy plots. Sitiah is as vicious as a desert scorpion. She has already proven herself to be power hungry. When she was here, she signed official documents without her brother's approval. **_And_** she had her name and portrait printed on coins, once again excluding Pharaoh. Being only a co-regent and a woman she is not allowed to make such moves without Pharaoh's consent. She is certainly a child of Set."  Folken slowly smiled in amusement.

"And you believe her to be an unworthy ruler?" He questioned his eyebrows winging upward.

Thaddeus looked uncertain for a moment his gaze shifting nervously from the thrown to Strategos, "Well- yes. I suppose I do."

"And would that be because she's a woman or because she's incompetent?" Merle glared at the man, standing beside Van.  Thaddeus frowned haughtily looking at the girl.

"That's none of your business, servant." He huffed lifting his chin in a regal pose.  Merle could feel a growl rising in her throat as lightning lit her eyes.

"Answer the question." Strategos ordered a secretive smile sliding into place as he watched the man carefully.  Looking shocked, Thaddeus blinked several times looking at Folken's severe gaze.  He looked from him to the Prince, who fixed him with disapproving frown, and back again.

Swallowing, with a weak shrug he responded, "I-I think- a woman should- know her place- and let men take care of matters of- state."  He gave an astute nod, refusing to back down.  Van put a hand on Merle's tense shoulder, keeping her from springing at the man.

Strategos only smirked, "No matter what your opinion, I want Ptolemy sent for, and his sister found. I will settle this matter between the two, and decide whether Egypt needs a monarch or merely a Fanelian governor. Now at least be helpful and tell me where Pompey is."  _All those above him have manipulated this man. He is a sheep, following the flock. _Folken thought coldly_._

Again Thaddeus' face fell and his eyes became round with disbelief, "Pompey? I-do- not know. Perhaps he is with Ptolemy. But my Lord Strategos, surely Egypt does not need a supervisor- her officials-"

Irritated by now Folken boomed, "The officials squabble like children, and forget their place! Do as I say and send for Ptolemy! Tell him Strategos demands his presence. And get me tables and chairs. Wine as well, and hurry."  This time Thaddeus paled with fear.

"As you wish, Great Strategos." He bowed hurriedly and scuttled out, his back bent and his eyes on the floor the whole time.  Not until he had disappeared behind a pillar did he take a deep breath trying to calm his sudden anxiety.  His hand to his chest; quaking with alarm, he swiftly moved down the passageway his mind flying. 

_Strategos must have plans to make Egypt one of his provinces! It'll be swamped with his own soldiers and officials. And we will have to pay more tribute than we do now! He will bankrupt Egypt… I will send a letter to Ptolemy telling him to come. But I must warn Pothinus as well._  He glimpsed a servant in the corridor and snapped his fingers ordering, "Send a scribe to my office immediately. And bring me an Egyptian courier. Quickly!"  The servant bowed and turned in the other direction.  Thaddeus swallowed hard entering his office. _Strategos must not have Egypt!_  The heavy doors shut behind him.

Author's Note:

          Hello again. I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Let me know where you think the story is going, or just comment on one of the characters.  Thank you so very much for the kind reviews, I love having the support to encourage me. It's a great feeling.  Well last time I did leave out some of the details on historical factors so I'll bring you up to date on that, but first I'd like to point out the things I starred .

First: Isadora is a Greek name meaning 'gift of the moon', it has also been used as the name for a moon goddess.

Second: Setepenre is a fictional character that I put in. As far as I know there was no general by that name that Cleopatra appointed. Daemon (who I didn't star) also is a fictional character, for extra info Daemon is a Greek name for a man who's good w/ people, pleasant and easy going, but doesn't like manual labor, but is responsible.

As for Setepenre, that is an Egyptian name for a man who is diplomatic, refined and organized.

Third: Arsinoe is a nonfiction character (I'm not trying to name drop, I swear). Cleopatra did have a younger sister by that name. And she supposedly fled w/ her elder sister to Syria.

Fourth: Merle is older than she is in the Escaflowne series. I'm making her about fifteen so that she fits with things that happen later on.

Fifth: Thaddeus is a fictional character as well. His name is Greek and means 'courageous'.

Sixth: Pelusium was a real place where Ptolemy did have his army encamped.  It was just east of where Cleopatra was said to flee to: Thebaid.

Seventh: Pothinus is a nonfiction character. He was a eunuch who helped conspire against Cleopatra and led Ptolemy to Pelusium.  He was an official who was a part of the regency set over Cleopatra and Ptolemy when they were younger.

                                                 Historical Notes:

Cleopatra was the eldest of the remaining three children by the time she took the throne.  Her mother is unknown (but for the sake of my story Sitiah's mother's identity will be revealed), though specialists in Egyptology do have theories.  Cleopatra had two older sisters.  One was Cleopatra the VI, who was thought to have died young, and the other was Berenice who tried to overthrow her father and was instead ordered by him to be beheaded.

King Ptolemy the XII was already in debt to Rome before he died owing tribute in grain and other riches that Alexandria supplied.  After Cleopatra the VII was exiled Ptolemy the XIII ordered that no grain be exported, probably to insure that his elder sister did not have it for her troops and to be sure his people were fed through the time of famine.  Somehow though, Cleopatra managed to survive.

          Ptolemy was about twelve when he married Cleopatra who was about eighteen.  Royal incest was something that had gone on in Egypt for quite awhile to insure that the bloodline was continued, and that the ruling family was kept in power.  The Egyptian pharaohs were known to marry their sisters, daughters, cousins and mothers, all in the sake of keeping the power in the blood.  When Alexander took over he made Alexandria Egypt's capitol.  The Macedonian-Greeks that became rulers wished to keep Egypt the same and so carried on the tradition.  They were very accepting of the culture, and were worshiped as gods just like the Egyptian rulers before them.  They even kept the religion, though changing the names a bit.  The names of the gods of Egypt that we often hear are actually the Greek translations. Like Hathor who I starred.  In Egyptian she was known as Het-Hert, the goddess of love and beauty.

          As for the religion of Egypt it was always changing! The principal gods changed names, and took on new identities as some of the minor gods were replaced and sometimes forgotten.  Their mythology is one of the hardest things to learn when it comes to Egyptology because it seems with each dynasty names and duties of the gods changed.  So you must cut me a little slack if I get confused.

          One more thing, Bast is a cat deity, a woman with the head of a cat. What I've read about her is that she was often confused with the lion headed goddess, Sekhmet. I've also read that the portrayals of Bast as a black cat with a gold earring, are false, and cannot be traced back to Ancient Egyptian art. Bast was said to be the avenger of Ra (the sun form of Amun, the highest god) and protector of pharaoh.  She was also said to be Ra's daughter. She wasn't associated with cats until 1000B.C., before then she was the Eye of Ra.  There is another way to spell her name, but translated it still comes out the same.  Some believe Bastet's second "t" is silent and is spelled that way because the priests wanted to be sure the "t" sound was pronounced.

   **Whoa**! Did ya get all that? Man I feel like an encyclopedia typing all this knowledge from memory!  Well be sure to review! I'll update as soon as I can.


	4. Unrolling to Destiny

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    Daemon was glad to be home.  And though he had to push his way through the crowded marketplace, his body crushed in the throng, and sweaty in the Arab garb, he felt relief flood him.  It was odd to have missed the hundreds of different smells assaulting his nose, and even more odd to have longed to hear the familiar sound of merchants and buyers all chattering away in the many diverse languages of the city.  The white washed walls and the dust of the streets were a welcomed sight for one that had been removed for so long.  Most knew it as the most glorious and cultured city in all of Gaea, but to Daemon it was only home.

          When he had finally broken free of the rabble, and directed his way through the confusion of streets, his stomach began to tense.  He swallowed hard as he passed Fanelian guards into the outer palace courtyard.  He pretended not to notice as they narrowed their eyes and murmured lowly watching the little caravan make its way to the steps.

"Keep on, Daemon. We'll make it past." Setepenre encouraged him in quiet Egyptian that the guards could not pick up.

Daemon only nodded.  _I hope you're right, Commander._  They passed through another courtyard deeper within the palace walls.  A man wearing the uniform of an Austurian officer frowned looking in their direction.  He was tall with hair like gold that fell to his waist.  He was speaking to two men in Fanelian uniforms when he noticed the odd group walking toward the main entrance.

"You there! Hold on!" He called turning towards them.

Daemon felt his body freeze in panic, immediately wishing he had not stopped and simply feigned ignorance. 

"Daemon, use that glib tongue of yours. We've got to get into the palace. She may not last much longer!" Setepenre hissed halting behind him as the Asturian officer, and the two guards stopped a few steps away.  The general curbed his anger and dropped his eyes to the floor like any common man would.  He thought of the load on his shoulder and for the first time in years found himself praying to the gods.  _Please, let me deliver her unharmed. She is that last hope in restoring The Two Lands…_

      She could not believe what was going on.  Was she in the hall of judgment before Anubis?  Was this death for a queen? 

She had felt the solidity of the floor and the binds being tugged on and cut away.  But her eyes remained closed as she was revealed, the carpet having been unfurled upon the cool marble.  The light was distinct as it fell on her face gently warm and harsh at the same time to her eyes.  She lay against the rug just breathing softly.  The gasp had erupted in the room and she knew that she lay at the feet of destiny, destiny that she would only know by the words of Strategos.  Her stomach rebelled because of its shabby treatment, but she stubbornly struggled for complete focus.  The black lashes fluttered open, leaving her to squint at the sun's brightness in the room.  Slowly her eyes focused and she could see the tall figure standing above her.  Her heart skipped a beat.  _Strategos_.

Eyes a light brown with flecks of gold stared up at him.  He was as astonished as the rest of his men who could not look away from the young woman lying on the rug.  Black waves pillowed her head and spilled to her shoulders.  The white satin that graced her was tucked tightly to her body, flowing over the sensual lines of her breasts, hips, and thighs.  Folken had to take a deep breath before he could un-cloud his mind of the many questions he wanted to ask, and the thoughts causing chaos behind his eyes.  Once he had the right frame of mind he glanced to his right.  Van stood there, his jaw dropped slightly, and his eyes wide with shock.  Strategos smirked at the expression.  Nothing had ever rendered his brother so speechless before.   

Finally Strategos spoke, his mind as sharp as ever, "Sitiah."  She lifted herself slightly on to her elbows.  Her confidence in complete check after her awe had worn off a bit. 

She gave him a small smile returning quietly, "Strategos."  The voice struck a chord somewhere in him, and a wave of pleasure rippled up his spine.  He could feel himself swoon a moment, fully aware of the beauty he beheld.  The voice was sweet, a woman's warm tone sending rippling notes of music about the chamber.  No one would ever make an impression upon him the way she had.  But he knew his manners quite well, and etiquette was something no man of court could survive without.

Squatting down he offered his hand, his eyes blazing into hers, "Princess Sitiah."  She paused looking at his hand, calculating silently, and then slipping her hand into his.  _So strong…_  His other arm went around her to catch her elbow as she stood with him.  Sitiah forced back the nausea that instantly rose in her and managed to stay standing.

"**_Queen_** Sitiah," She corrected him, a smile playing on her lips.  He smirked with a little huff that flared his nostrils.  He carefully brought his hand from her elbow still holding to her hand with the other.

"So they tell me." He responded with a tiny nod.

"Not a surprise, knowing how men talk." She raised a slim eyebrow.

"Yes," He said then slowly let her hand fall to her side.  He turned from her to pace a few steps away.  He looked back at her solemnly, remembering his duty as emperor.  "They also tell me you're a ruthless and deceitful woman who would do anything to gain power."  He watched her carefully, but she betrayed no sign of anger at his words.  She looked down a moment shaking her head sadly.  When she looked back up her eyes had hardened and she was the mysterious queen of the desert once again.

"Please, say no more of the court's petty talk. I know what my enemies say… Don't assume anything about me. I am my own person. I'm not a puppet." She said coolly.  Strategos felt a hint of surprise at her audacity, and had in mind to reprimand her for such brazen boldness.  But he could see that she was weary, barely able to stand where she was.  He could see the tremble of her limbs.  He realized that it must've taken much effort to stay so stiff within a carpet.  And with the heat, he wondered how she had truly survived.  He decided it best to think of such things later.  The most important thing was that she had arrived and in a very unusual way nonetheless.

"Please, forgive me. You must be in need of refreshment and attendance. We can speak later of why you've come. As for now-" He gave a careless wave at the men of her entourage.

"You will excuse me, Strategos, but I must ask you for a favor," Sitiah broke in hurriedly. 

Folken gave a nod urging her to go on.  

"I'm sure you're aware that my brother has in mind to kill me. His men are everywhere. You see the danger in me being here within my own palace. I'm afraid I must ask you for a few of your own men to protect me while I ready myself." She said.  His eyes darted to Van, then to Allen considering her petition gravely.  He knew that he could not allow her to be murdered.

"Of course. Two of my men shall accompany you to keep you from any danger there may be." He finally answered singling out two guards with a quick gesture.  The two men stepped forward, bowed to her, and then went to stand on either side of her.  She studied one than the other out of the corner of her eyes.  She nodded in approval, but hesitated with an uncertain frown.

"My men, Lord Strategos. Will you be sure they are well hidden in the barracks?" She asked looking back at Daemon, her general, and the two others that had accompanied them.  Setepenre looked ready to protest but she quickly sent him a glance that pleaded with him to stay silent. 

"Yes, they will be taken care of as well, my lady." He assured her.  She smiled at the man.

"Thank you…Strategos." She smiled, bowing her head.  _So… you are Strategos._

                    The water was a divine shelter that smoothed away the dirt and sand, clothing her in its cool silky depths.  The queen sighed with obvious pleasure laying her head back against the tile of the floor.  The sweat and grit came free easily from her worn body, for which she was immensely grateful.  So close to death within the stifling carpet, she had slipped into a dark lull, allowing herself to forget the task at hand.  Jolted awake by the awareness of the sounds of her city she had become fully in tune to the voices that spoke of the Strategos' presence in the palace.  There were no languages she could not translate and soon she had discovered the unrest in the people.  But now she was free of the confining rug, and she buried the memory of her horrid entrapment. 

She lazily spread her arms in the water closing her eyes as a swooshing sound soothed her entire body.  Her eyes fell shut.  The darkness was perfect and silent, wrapping her into its security without thought.  She wanted to fall into a deep slumber that would keep her from thinking of anything but the comfort of the bath.  Relaxing away the tension in her upper arms she stretched lightly bringing her arms toward the middle and out again.  If she sank to the bottom, no longer breathing, but embracing Osiris with welcomed relief…  But she opened her eyes crushing the thought abruptly. 

No, the queen in her would not allow her to give in so easily.  She had chosen the road, and now had to take every step with grace and pride.  Sitiah raised her head and moved away from the wall against her back.  She tipped her head back allowing the water to seep into her scalp, drowning the dark hair.  She stood straight, the water gliding down her hair and dripping back into the water.  She sighed again swirling around in the water watching as it trickled through her fingers when she raised her hands, palms to the ceiling. 

The voice of a soldier at the door startled her, "I beg your pardon, princess, but my commander has ordered me to ask if there is anything you need." 

Sitiah smirked sarcastically.  _Yes, of course. Like my own ladies, and a good two hours to properly ready myself! _

She finally called back, "Thank you soldier, no, I have everything I require."

"I shall let my commander know, Princess." The man replied before she heard his retreating footsteps echoing down the hall.  She remained silent as she waited for any other voice, nibbling at her bottom lip.  When she was sure that only two guards stood by the door she walked to the edge of the pool.  She picked up a bottle of sweet-smelling liquid and poured some into one hand.  As she worked it through her hair her thoughts strayed to the curious man that had invaded her palace.

_He is handsome, and younger than I had thought. Such a man who has conquered as he has is normally full of wrinkles and dark shadows upon his face! He is not what I expected…Isadora was right when she said his eyes were secretive, though. He is a man in full control of his life, one that does not easily let others in. He will not easily be persuaded…I do not fear him, yet I felt such a shiver at the sight of him. His very presence is profound. Commanding, it seems. He draws attention, craves it I think. Strategos is a man of action, and_ _mystery…so tall and assured. With such broad shoulders, and chest… I barely stand to his shoulder! And what attractiveness he has! His face is so…_  She shook herself smoothing her hair back.  Her hands dropped from her head into the water as she frowned.  "Strategos will not listen if I plead…" She whispered to herself.  Worry built up behind her eyes, and her heart tightened with a fearful shudder.  _How will he see that I am the true ruler of Egypt?_

                    The silence did not depart with the impetuous princess, but lingered in the hall as they all recovered from the shock.  No one had expected her to pull a stunt such as that to bring herself before Strategos.  Not one man in the hall could shake the memory of her burning eyes.

"How-on earth-how do you think she managed to stay alive in that thing?" Gaddes broke the quiet.

"She must have been protected by some sort of spell!" One of the soldiers exclaimed.  There was a murmur of agreement from some others.

"What do you think, Allen?" Folken's question brought the men to silence again.

Allen shrugged casually with a calm smile, "She's very tenacious, Highness."

"That's for sure," Merle snorted, "I've never met a woman with enough guts to try and argue with Strategos about her title!"

"Not even a man for that matter." Gaddes agreed nodding. 

"And you, Van, my brother, what do you think of the Egyptian princess?" Strategos focused on Van with a curious smile, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"She is… very- well-" He searched for the words.

"Beautiful, is the word, Lord Van." Merle put in with a smug nod.  She knew him much too well.

"Not just that," He frowned shooting her a glance, "But she is just-"

"Startling… It's something in her eyes. She's definitely a cunning one, sir." Gaddes crossed his arms in finality.

"Well if I could finish a sentence I could tell you exactly what I think of her!" Van snapped glaring at one then the other.

"Go ahead." Merle looked away casually.

Van sulked frowning bitterly, "Well damned if I can remember what I was going to say now."

His brother gave a light chuckle and dismissed the group with a wave of his hand, "I'll consult with my brother for now. Tend to the soldiers arrangements. And Merle, kindly see to the princess."

"You mean the **_queen_**." The girl teased before she darted out among the others who bowed and showed themselves out.

Strategos only shook his head at the comment and waited for the last men to file out.  Alone with his brother, he studied the young man who had pulled up a chair and was frowning down at a map.  He walked over to stand by the table, saying nothing as he too looked upon the map.  After a few long moments of silence he asked, "What do you think of Alexandria, Brother?"

"It has only been two days," Van shrugged, then leaned back a bit to capture Folken's gaze with his own.  He pursed his lips trying to read the man's expression.  Strategos' face remained calm, open almost, though there were no emotions to be found.  Finally he let his eyes scan the chamber around him.  His eyes resting on the throne he finally spoke his mind, "Things are going to be more difficult than you thought, Strategos. You didn't foresee that this situation would become more tricky to handle…Will you allow her an audience before her brother arrives tomorrow?"

Strategos smiled lightly at the way Van had so tactlessly brought up their unexpected guest.  He sighed heavily letting his eyes drop to the marble floor.  Ribbons of black onyx and russet swirled in each tile that was glossed to a high sheen.  His gaze rose to the throne somberly contemplating the look in the woman's startlingly beautiful eyes_.  _

_She is very confident. She truly believes in whatever claim she has to the throne… Sitiah…Who are you truly? You are different than your father. More determined, I think. In your eyes is a great fire, which I saw in Auletes eyes several times, but in yours they are deeper blazes. What is it you really want, Princess? Queen…_

                                                   Historical Note:

As far as any historian knows, Cleopatra was truly delivered in a carpet to Julius Caesar.  It is a story that has been told over and over again, in all kinds of descriptions.  I tried to keep my explanation simple because of the fact that it has been written about so many times.

Anubis is Greek for the Egyptian god Anpu, the god of embalming and guide of the dead.  He is the jackal headed god that would weigh a man's heart against the feather of Ma'at in a golden scale.  If the heart were heavier than the feather, it would be fed to the Eater of Souls and denied a glorious eternity.  However if the heart weighed evenly with the feather, a man could pass into the arms of Osiris, king of the dead.  And begin an afterlife of bliss.

           Osiris, called Wasir in Egyptian, was the great king of all gods.  As the story goes his brother Set, or Setesh, murdered him and scattered his body parts all over the Egyptian empire.  Isis (Eset), his sister-wife, was devoted to him and in morning gathered all of him together, except for one part, his phallus.  Finally though after a long search she found it and was able to complete her husband's body.  Taking the guise of a hawk-or eagle (I forget which), she hovered over the body, coupling at last with her brother-husband.  Out of the union she gave birth to a son, Horus.  Horus, Heru, became the hawk headed god of the skies, and the new symbol of kingship in Egypt, while his father became Lord of the Underworld.  There are several versions, for others I suggest checking out a book on Egyptian Mythology. 

The confusing thing is that Osiris, though dead, was still the king of the gods.  Once however, Amun had been king over all, but instead was replaced by Wasir.  Amun-Ra was the mightiest god in Egypt, but was the sun representation of Amun. Craziness, I know.  Ra was the sun, and also the great god.

Author's Note:

Ya know, I don't think I'll confuse you anymore w/ the older gods.  Just know that in this fiction, all gods mentioned here will be a part of Sitiah's faith.

**           Well, **I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and will enjoy the next.


	5. Resistance

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Note: Disregard the warning from the last chapter! I'm sorry about that, but I warned you a few chapters too soon.  I'm sorry about the confusion.

                    "I was sent to tend to your needs, Queen Sitiah," Merle bowed politely than looked up curiously at the woman. 

She wore no make-up, her face clean and fresh looking.  Her skin was darker than most Greeks, yet lighter than the complexion of Egyptians.  Her eyes however held traces of both races, with their wider almond shape, black lashes long and thick, though the coloring was a very light brown, fanning out to gold at the edges.  Her lips were of medium size, smooth and attractive.  Merle couldn't help but think of Van when she saw how high and sculpted her cheekbones were. Her nose was small and long, but not unattractively so.  She was an exotic beauty, small boned, yet obviously in good shape.  Her build was not athletic, nor was it weak.  Her curves were graceful, and the flesh of her limbs looked soft and taut. 

Merle thought on her carefully_. Is her beauty just a mask? Or is she as lovely within her heart?_

Sitiah studied her as well, wondering whether the girl could be trusted.  She hated being on her guard around servants, which was why she only allowed a select few to wait on her.  The girl gave no hint of animosity, only open interest as she eyed the queen with intent gray-blue eyes.  Fastening the white robe with the gold linen belt Sitiah questioned nonchalantly, "You are not a lady's servant, are you?"

"No," Merle replied watching as the woman picked up the clothes she had tossed on the floor by the bath, "I serve Prince Van."  The queen slipped on a pair of sandals and stood surveying the room.  She finally looked at the girl gesturing to the door to her right.  Merle followed as she walked across the room to the door and into an adjoining chamber.

"I see. You have never served a lady before?" Sitiah asked as she let the clothes fall to the floor beside a couch.  She crossed the room to a bench in front of a vanity.  Seating herself before the bronze mirror fixed onto the little desk she said, "Come in. Close the door behind you, please."

Merle obeyed replying, "Yes, I was in fact trained to be a handmaiden to the queen, but I took to following the Prince about. Before I had trained more than a year with the queen, she sent me to Van. When she disappeared, I was the one to comfort him."  She too walked across the room to stand behind Sitiah.  She looked at the queen's reflection in the mirror, "May I?"

"Please." Sitiah smiled kindly into the mirror.  The young girl gently brought all of the woman's hair behind her shoulders.  She then turned and went toward a little cubby in the wall, and took out a white linen towel.  She returned to wrap the towel around Sitiah's long curls and squeeze out the excess water.  She seemed to know her way around quite well.  And even seemed at ease in the queen's presence.  _How very strange… She does not know me, yet she has hinted at no alternative means for serving me. She has not come to spy… Even if she was asked to, I doubt she would. Such an honest young woman. She can see things in people that others cannot with simple glances._

"I have served Lord Van since I was seven years old. And known him my whole life." Merle mentioned casually as she continued to dry the queen's hair with the towel.  She folded the towel up with care than dropped it onto a couch a few steps from the vanity.  Picking up a comb from the top of the table she said simply, "You have stirred much speculation among Strategos' officers."

As the brush slipped through her hair and caught on the tangles made by the curls Sitiah smiled secretively.  She had wanted such a reaction, hoping to impress upon Strategos the resolve of her person.  She watched Merle again, hiding any thoughts that showed within her eyes, "Do you think so?"

"Oh yes," The girl responded, carefully going through a handful at a time, "Where we're from, no woman would dare roll up in a carpet and have it unfurled before a man."  She laid one section of hair aside to start with another, when she looked up commenting, "They're shocked. Even Strategos' was left rather speechless."  Her eyes showed with something close to admiration then fell again to the task at hand.

"He is a hard man to catch off guard," Sitiah pondered frowning thoughtfully.

Merle nodded, "Indeed. I have known him all my life as well, and I know him to be a very clever man. He can usually see an opponent's moves before they even think them. It's the way he is."

The queen looked at her suddenly.  Merle could see the anxious tension upon her face as she stilled the brush in her hand.  "Does he consider me his opponent?" Sitiah asked eagerly, gauging the girl's reaction.

Merle considered the woman silently watching as different emotions flushed the face only to disappear.  She gazed away pensively.  Finally after long moments of staying completely still she lifted the brush to the queen's hair again.  She shrugged emotionlessly, "Who can say? He is always on his guard with everyone. He has many enemies."  She knew that her answer had not been what the queen had wanted, but she had to stay cautious.  She had learned to say little and listen a lot when it came to being with people of power.  Traveling with Van and his elder brother had taught her to pay attention to every detail of a person's demeanor.  She knew that people could give subtle hints about their thoughts with little more than a simple glance.  The look of worry upon the queen's face made Merle feel a twang of guilt.  She sighed and concentrated on the black ocean of curls the brush was buried in.

                    Ptolemy's troops and most of his men were gathered at Pelusium, and for that Isadora sighed in relief.  Though it meant more trouble later on, Isadora knew that having Ptolemy's people in one place had helped to see the ship through the waters toward her home.  Strategos had arrived in Alexandria, which meant his men now replaced those of Ptolemy's stationed about the city.  She was insignificant to the man's soldiers, only a queen's handmaiden. 

Word had reached all that had accompanied Strategos; that the queen had come and was under the protection of the Emperor.  Had the ship come across one of Ptolemy's, she would find herself in more dangerous hands.  But as chance had it, the simple merchant ship sailed with others that flew the Fanelian flag.  Isadora knew she could not have been dealt any cards with more luck, for with the Fanelian escort no danger could encroach upon her or the servants of her majesty.

          The veil that covered her hair flowed behind her caught by the sea breezes.  She smiled lifting her head to the sky.  The sun shone full on her face bathing her in the yellow light.  Free of the heavy desert heat, and the sand that rose with every stir, she inhaled as deeply as possible.  The wind carried her breath away as she let it all out.  She raised her hands at her sides whispering a prayer of thanks to the mighty Ra clear and brilliant in the azure skies.  The disk seemed to wink at her as she opened her eyes, and her smile widened.  The gods had answered her prayers for a safe journey.  She already knew the queen was in the palace being taken care of.  The scroll written in the queen's own writing had not even been necessary to assure her of the circumstances.  A vision had shown her the happenings in the throne room with acute detail, leaving her with a weary smile and urge to sleep.  But Ra was sinking happily in the sky and she was awake and ready to once again stand by her queen's side.

"My lady, we are nearing the dock. The High Priestess urges you to ready yourself and go down to await the litter." A servant bowed a few steps away.

She looked from the god to the white mud brick dwellings along the horizon shimmering with the afternoon glare.  She smiled, "I'll be along in a moment, Aeson."  He bowed again and began to turn when he stopped looking back at the woman with a timid smile.

"Lady Mitylene would be appalled if she knew you stand with your face uncovered, priestess." He said in his warm voice.

She laughed her green eyes darting to the aging man, "Of course she would, Aeson! But you will not tell her, will you?"  It was not really a question for she looked out over the sea with a confident smile.

Aeson chuckled shaking his head as he began to shuffle back to the steps into the cabin, "No, priestess. You know I would not."  He made his way down into the cabin his bent back disappearing below the stairs.  Isadora sighed leaning her arms upon the railing.  She smirked with a roll of her eyes as she reluctantly tucked one side of her veil over her face.  She brought the other around her neck and tossed the end over her shoulder.  All that was left to the eye were the green gems of her eyes, framed by the dense brown-black lashes that curled gently. 

She blinked and was thrown into a white-pillared room where several men sat about a long rectangular table.  She could see Strategos in full view at the head of the table where he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.  He was speaking to the group, his armor laid aside for that day, clad only in tan leather pants and low boots with a silver belt holding a sword, and a short tan soldier's tunic and black overcoat that fell to the floor.  The silver buttons of the duster glinted, as did his red-brown eyes with their stern control as he studied each face.  Her eyes went around the room as his did, and rested on a single man. 

Young, with the same red-brown eyes, and hair as black as pitch, he met Strategos gaze with serious stillness.  The emperor's eyes traveled on, but Isadora's stayed on that one individual.  He had olive skin, like he himself was Greek, his complexion standing out in the room of peach faces.  He was the opposite of his brother who seemed to be made of icy colors, for he was of warm colors like the earth, sun, and midnight sky.  His lips were perfect for a man, a pale pink against his tan skin.  His eyelashes black like his hair were unusually lengthy and thick, almost feminine.  Invisible lines chiseled out his cheekbones and well shaped nose.  He was incredibly handsome in his somber mood as he listened as his brother went on.  The want in Isadora to reach out and touch the surely soft skin of his cheek startled her from the scene. 

Her fingers clutched tightly to the railing, the knuckles completely white.  The noise of the harbor pulsed in her ears, as did the sound of her wildly beating heart.  _He's here! He is at the palace! What will I do? I cannot face him! _ She breathed in and out in heavy gasps.  Her shaking hands tremulously let go of the rail and went up to rest on her chest.  Stepping back from the railing Isadora tripped backward on the skirt of her chiton.  She steadied herself before she fell to the deck grabbing a hold of the rail once again.  A soldier by her side gently put his arm around her shoulders that tensed at his touch.

"Come, Prophetess, I'll help you to your litter." He spoke kindly to her.  She turned her head to see Miles eyebrows drawn together over his brown eyes in worry.  She gratefully sank against her trusted guard, and allowed him to bring his arm from her shoulders to her waist, and take her right hand.  "This way, my lady." He said leading her slowly toward the plank that ran out to the dock.  She let out a sigh closing her eyes, her head falling to his strong shoulder.

     On the steps up to the main gate Isadora awakened as the litter jerked to a stop.  She heard one of the guards hurriedly explain in Latin.  The man at the gate obviously didn't understand, for the guard sighed and tried Greek.  The soldier on guard at the gate stuttered in Fanelian that he didn't understand. 

The men in her escort fell to grumbling when she pulled aside the curtains and asked, "What is it?"

Miles quickly went to stand where she could see him and bowed, "Forgive us, my lady, but no one can speak Fanelian to this man."  Isadora peered out looking at the flushed man who seemed at a loss for words.  She frowned at the way his eyes darted from her to her men in panic.  Taking pity on him she forced herself to recall the language.

Luckily the queen had been an adamant teacher, for Isadora remembered in a flash and spoke after a few seconds, "Excuse me. I am Lady Isadora, the queen's servant and friend. We need to be allowed into the palace to report ourselves to her."

The soldier gaped at her, not expecting her Fanelian to be so crisp and unaccented.  He swallowed his eyes losing the look of fear in them, "Oh- I did not know. Forgive me."  He made an awkward bow and signaled to the tower. 

Isadora smiled triumphantly, "Thank you."  She ducted behind the curtain, and closed it just as the litter started forward again.  Sinking back against her cushions she put a fingertip to her temple as a tiny stab of pain slashed into her head.  She sighed as the throb dulled, and then disappeared.  She closed her eyes to pray.  _Thoth, I thank you for the knowledge bestowed upon my queen, which she has passed onto me. I pray that you might now give her the words, oh Wise One, to convince Strategos of her capability.  _She took a quick breath opening her worried eyes.  "Isis, be with your daughter." She whispered fervently reaching for the pink stone of her necklace hidden beneath the folds of her veils.

                    A weary Strategos stepped into his chamber, barely hearing the quiet click of the doors as they closed behind him.  He was about to throw himself upon the large bed when a scent caught his attention.  It was perfume smelling of persea blossoms and pomegranates drizzled with honey.  It was light in the breezes that drifted from the open balcony.  His eyes narrowed irritably, realizing the curtains to the balcony were open.  He pulled his sword without a sound, holding it in one hand as he edged toward the balcony.  He stood with his back to the wall next to the gauzy linen curtain gathered and tied against one pillar.  He took a quick step turning to face the balcony, his boots making a slick sound on the marble.  His eyes widened then narrowed as the queen whipped around with a gasp.  Her chest heaving she stared at him in shock then frowned.

"What are you doing here?" She cried still trying to calm her breathing.

"The question is how did you find my room, your Highness?" He said through clenched teeth glaring at her faintly painted face.

"What do you mean **_your_** room? These are my chambers!" She replied indignantly. 

He lowered the sword taking one hand from the hilt gesturing to himself, "This is the room I acquired when I got here."

She scowled at him, the green malachite on her eyelids making her glare seem deadly, "These are my royal chambers, you have no right here."

Folken took a few steps toward her pointing the sword at her his arm extended until the tip was inches from the golden flesh of her neck, "You forget yourself. I am the one with the power to say who truly has the right over anything in Egypt."  Still Sitiah's expression did not change and she held his eyes with hers.  Her fingers tensed at her sides flexing toward her palm in agitation, like a cat extending its claws only to draw them back in.

"I am Sitiah Mekhare Yasmin Ptolemy," She said her voice low, "Queen of Egypt."  Her eyes were dark brown, the edges of her irises burning gold.

"You are queen, only if I say you are," He replied coldly.

"Ha!" She exclaimed a feral grin spreading on her face.  "My blood makes me so! You cannot change it! If you think to kill me and put another in my place the people will riot!"

"Don't be a fool," He spat, his sword dropping to his side as he took two threatening steps toward her, "The people hate you! They've been calling for Arsinoe since the day I arrived!"

Shaking her head furiously Sitiah returned, "No! It does not matter! Arsinoe is a child! She does not know how to rule! I am a woman! I know how, I was taught!"

"Admit it. The mob hates you! You cannot hope to keep power in a city that despises you!" Folken shouted stepping forward again until he stared down at her.

"The only reason they want Arsinoe is because she can be manipulated! She is young and beautiful, and cares for nothing but the wealth of Egypt. The people love her because of her youth, and looks! Because she appeared to them as a child, and they watched her grow, as I worked behind closed walls…They think that she will be a figurehead that other countries will look up to. They want her to seem like some docile ally to Fanelia! But she will have no power with the regency backing her." Sitiah argued her voice finally falling to a softer degree.  She looked down almost forlornly swallowing back the angry tears.  "I will not be their puppet like Arsinoe would. I am too old. They love her because they know she is soft and will comply. And they hate me because I will do what is best for Egypt as a whole, and not just for Alexandria."  Her heart ached suddenly and she closed her eyes against the torment.  She swallowed again trying to clear her eyes of any tears.  Looking up at the speechless man she said softly, "I do not hate them as they hate me. I respect them and the lives they live. This is my home; I cannot run away from the hatred that is shoved at me. I love this city- this country- too much to turn it over to deceitful men who will be the ruin of her."  Her eyes shone with her conviction and the unshed tears, but she did not try to hide either from him.  _It is my destiny to rule here._  She thought stubbornly.

Folken's eyes had lost their fury.  And his heart heard her words.  He blinked stepping back as though she had slapped him.  He suddenly frowned in confusion, "Your- destiny?"

Author's Note:

My! Well that chapter was a bit longer than I had expected. Sorry about that.

Isis: In Cleopatra's time was the Mother Goddess, the supreme one married to Osiris, king of the dead.  She was also the one who was able to trick Ra into giving his name to her.  Her tears flooded the Nile at the time of the inundation, bringing life to the fields.  Her sacred tears were the most blessed gift ever bestowed upon Egypt.  If Isis did not cry than The Two Lands did not prosper.  She was also said to be the lady of magic, taught by the god Thoth to use mystical powers to give to the people.  She meant fertility, giving back to the land with her sorrow. 

Cleopatra identified herself with this great goddess, and soon began to refer to herself as the incarnation of Isis.  She became a symbol, a living god, proclaiming herself to be the daughter of the Mother Goddess.  On the walls of temples you can still see her portrayed as Isis with the cow's horns and sun (or lunar) disk.  And as an incarnation of a goddess she was a devote worshiper, setting up shrines to her mother within her household.  And just to remind you Eset is the Egyptian name for Isis.  Egypt had many goddesses who took on duties much like the Greek Isis, and often times she was overshadowed in different dynasties and called by different names.  However throughout Egypt's history there has always been a supreme goddess whose gracious gifts supported The Two Lands.

You have no idea how grateful I am for the encouraging reviews! Thanks to all of you! I'll personally thank each of you in a coming chapter. For now keep up the kind support and I shall keep the inspiration to update as soon as I can**.  Ya'll so rock out!**  Nuzzles and licks from me to all ya'll!

Thanks!


	6. Hathor is Summoned

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Continued…

                    "Your destiny?" His eyes searched hers in bewilderment.

             "Yes," She answered after a moment's hesitation, "It is my destiny. I have been told so by my Prophetess."  She raised her chin a little blinking away her own disconcertment.  _Why does he stare at me so?_

Strategos slowly smiled, his amusement making the princess flush, "Ah, so you do put your faith in magic."

"No," She frowned shaking her head innocently, "Not magic. I put my faith in the divine. And in my Prophetess' ability to see into the future."

Her lips puckered out in an almost childish pout.  The corners of Folken's mouth twitched as he found himself wanting to laugh at the expression.  She seemed so simple in that moment, so very like a young girl whose true desires were for adventure, and the beauty of things around her.  He felt a sudden quiver in his solid wall.  He pitied the girl who stood before him arguing her rights so bravely, though she knew she might matter no more than a fly to him; only a temporary annoyance.

He let his eyes take on a softer look, the red of his eyes no longer flaring so bright.  He kept the amused look, but lowered his voice to a civil tone, "This Prophetess, tells you the future?"

She nodded, "She has visions. She is a priestess. My favored servant."

          "I see. She's a slave then. You ask her to see visions for you." He replied.

"No! She is no slave! She serves me because it is her will- her own destiny that she foresaw. She is a friend first and foremost…  I do not ask her. She cannot choose what to see. Her powers come from-Eset. And Thoth. Well- I never ask unless it is important. And even then she can only try…" Sitiah quickly informed him her temper rising again.  She took a deep breath glancing away from him.  She relaxed exhaling softly.  Turning around to put her hands on the white stone rail she said, "You know, she told me destiny would bring me to your feet."  Folken smiled with a chuckle stepping to her side a step away.

"You truly believe in Fate then. How puzzling," He stared down into the garden below shaded by trees surrounded by fragrant flowers.  Thinking of such flowers, the princess' own fragrance touched his nose again, reminding him of its delightful scent.

"Puzzling? Why is that?" She could not stop the smile spread on her face.  His voice was lilted with gentleness, but strong and powerful at the same time.  She liked his voice.  She could feel light warmth in it, and a sensual undertone that she thought handsome.

"Because, I too count my luck by Fate. The knowledge of my destiny kept me to my pledge to bring Gaea under one flag." He answered seeing far past the palace walls with his intelligent eyes.  Sitiah stiffened at the mention of his position.  She felt a nudge toward taking hold of her desire.

"But that flag is of Fanelia. Egypt is not Fanelia," She said turning toward him.  He only glanced at her then out to the city beyond the walls.

"It is a vassal of Fanelia. Egypt owes tribute to my land for the support it has given in times of need." He said steadily.

Sitiah bit her lip in frustration then looked at him with a determined frown, "We give you our grain for that. But there has been famine in this land, and it is my people who suffer from paying such-tribute. Fanelia demands tribute from everywhere! Surely Egypt's grain cannot be so important to your country!"

He refused to look at her, feeling his anger building again at her seeming want to pick a fight.  Trying to keep his voice calm he replied, "Egypt exports more than any other country on the planet. All of Gaea sends for grain from here, from Alexandria. It has resources enough to feed Fanelia alone for hundreds of years!"

"There has been famine! With the added tribute we pay to Fanelia, we do not have enough to feed ourselves. True our trade is filling the treasury, but the people cannot eat gold and gems! As queen I must keep the country's commerce in check!" She argued fervently.

He sighed tired of debating with the obstinate woman.  "You still press upon me that you are a queen, when it has yet to be decided."  Sitiah was left open mouthed, disbelief clouding the now golden eyes. 

In utter desperation she grabbed a hold of his arm crying, "Look at me! Can you not see what is meant to be? How can you ignore what I tell you?"  She pulled at his arm.  Agitation clear in the stormy depths of his eyes he whirled to face her slapping her hand away.

"I am Strategos! No one tells me what I must see! You overstep your bounds once again **_Princess_** Sitiah," He spat bitterly taking a firm grip on both her upper arms.  He shook her fiercely, "Do not make me kill you!"

He was breathing hard, his rage so furious that his face had lost its moon-paleness, and turned to a creamy peach. 

Her eyes full of fear and salt water, she retorted in a broken tone, "No! Strategos please let me keep Egypt! She must not become another Fanelia! Please, understand, that she cannot!"  Before she had meant to her hands sought the fabric of his shirt, her fingers winding around it.  Her own voice was panicking inside her in mass disorder.  Her heart was trying to leap from her chest as she fought to fence in the sobs rising in her aching throat.  Searching his face she watched as he went from anger to confusion to sympathy.  He swallowed hard his eyes taking on an odd look she had not seen before.  He was questioning her silently; she could feel the weight of his stare as she met it with her own.  He had drawn her closer by taking a hold of her so roughly.  They both emanated with heat, their bodies no farther than an inch or two away.  Something passed between their gaze like an electrical snap that surprised them with its force.  A sudden breath of air from the desert swept in a quiet serenity.  The khamsin that had bombarded them was no more than a tiny dust devil throwing a tantrum.

Sitiah, nodding in awed understanding, whispered, "You see it, don't you? You know that I can see into you… And you see into me, yes?"  Strategos could not answer, his mouth too dry to utter a response.  He nodded slowly.

He opened his mouth to say something, than closed it, his eyes narrowing abruptly.  The woman blinked sensing his unrest, and waited silently for him to tell her what made him so still.  She knew in her heart that she needed no explanation, finding that she'd put her trust in him.  He was squeezing her arms more tightly, a warning that something was not right. 

The whooshing sound seemed to last for long seconds, as though the arrow cutting through the atmosphere flew in slow motion.  Strategos' moves were lightning quick, throwing his arms about her as he dove to the floor bringing her down with him.  Time sped up again to its normal pace and Folken rolled on top of the princess, shielding her from the arrows that slanted like rain from the opposite rooftop.  He held her head in his arms, tucking it forward as he did the same; their foreheads pressed together.  There was a shout from the guard below in the garden, and the fire ceased.  Panting Folken lifted his head listening intently as guards were called to attention.  He was frowning as he carefully slipped his arms from beneath the princess' head and lifted his body from hers to roll onto his side.  In an instant he was on his feet scanning the perimeter.  Certain that he could leave the princess a moment he strode into the room and flung open both doors.

"There's been an attack, from the roof across from my chamber. One man armed with ten arrows. He shot only four. Be on your guard. Have men searching for him, he was carrying a sword, and two daggers concealed in his boots. He was dressed in white robes, his head covered like an Arab," Folken informed the men at his door pointing them down the hall.  "I want him found and taken to a secured cell, I'll deal with him in the morning!" He shouted his orders down the corridor at the two men dashing to carry out his commands.  The guards out of sight he backed into the room and slammed the doors shut.  He hurried back onto the balcony where Sitiah sat frozen.  He knelt by her taking notice of her heavy breathing and trembling hands.  One hand held to the back of her mouth, her arm around her stomach, she looked as though she would be sick.  The eyes had grown large with terror and shining gold.  She blinked looking up at him as he took her hand slowly from her mouth and held it.  Her hands were still shaking and they felt like soft snow within his warm hands.

Concern etching his brow he asked quietly, "Sitiah, are you alright?"  He studied her as she stared at him as though she'd never seen him before.  "Sitiah, you must come away from the balcony." He urged calmly.  Still she did not move as her chest quivered with the pounding of her heart.  She closed her eyes only to open them and lock them with his. 

Immediately she leaned in flinging her arms about the man's neck, whispering, "Strategos!"

His eyes closed and before he knew his intentions his arms went around her, one hand resting gently on the rippling hair.  He smoothed it gently murmuring reassurances to her, "It's alright princess. You are safe. My men are now searching for the assailant." 

Her perfume rose all around him as she buried her face in his neck crushing her upper body to his.  He was aware of the downy feel of her curls beneath his hands and against his cheek.  He opened his eyes feeling a duty to keep her from harm.  It was odd to feel her shivering and know that she held in the tears.  He let his arm fall from her waist to the bend of her knees sweeping her up as he got to his feet.  He cradled her light frame in his arms walking into the chamber toward the bed.  Her head rested on his shoulder her eyes closed, knowing she was out of harm's way.  Laying her down on the bed, he sank down to sit beside her feeling her perfect skin as she let her arms fall from around his neck.  His emotions, he was uncertain of, but his heart knew that he had won a great battle.  His fingers moved to clear the black curls from her face.  Her breathing had slowed and he was aware for the first time that her arms were bare and she wore a Doric chiton with a low v neckline.  He watched the rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheer white fabric her breasts barely veiled beneath.  Never had he looked at a woman in such a way.  Never had he felt the rise of desire within him that she inflamed. 

_Enchantress._ He thought reprimanding himself with a shake of his head. He smirked at himself. _Fool. You fall for the girl who calls herself a queen. And you thought you'd foresworn all earthly pleasures to conquer the world! Then you find yourself distracted by an argumentive palace brat? What kind of soldier are you?_  He banished the unwanted thoughts with a force of will.  He rose from the bed slowly; he'd thought she'd fallen to sleep.  Her hand shot out suddenly to take hold of his wrist.  He looked back at her seeing the exotic eyes opened wide with fear. 

"Please," She murmured softly, "Stay with me."  He could hear the accent in her Greek words; it was a slight roll of the words from her tongue.  He stared at her watching as she searched his face longingly for some sign of gentleness.  What was it she was truly asking?  He sat down again looking from her to the door and back again.  "Please, Strategos- don't leave me." She said urgently.  She didn't really plead; she was a queen, queens do not plead.  But still there was a hint of need to her voice, a little sorrow in it as well.  Closing her weary eyes again she whispered, "Just stay with me."  His will was forgotten abruptly.  What did he say to such a thing?  Surely she wasn't implying… No, of course not, she was only a young woman.  She was frightened that was all; she had probably never experienced an attempt on her life.  As before she spoke in a quiet voice urging him to stay, "Lay with me. The sun has gone, it is getting chill." 

Folken's eyes widened.  He knew she could not be ignorant to the invitation she'd made.  She was not such a child that she didn't know what men and women had done since time began.  What was he to think?  She was lying in his bed, helpless it seemed.  She wore a gown of materials that no decent western woman would wear.  Not to mention that she was a beautiful youth, with a figure that no man could easily ignore…  Folken made a disapproving grunt at the thought glaring at a vase in the corner of the now shadowy chamber.  No one had gone in to light the lamps or set warm coals in the brazier. The whole palace had grown quiet, as though it had been abandoned and held no life.  But the queen seemed alive enough as she tugged at the man's tunic. 

"Do not make me order you." She snapped mildly, though she knew it had no sway over the man.  He smiled at this, amazed that she could tease him at such a time. 

Finally he said, "I do not think that you are in control of your senses, Princess." 

Her eyes flew open as she insisted, "Of course I am!"  He was silent watching as she gazed at him with no remorse.  Her voice lost its waspishness and she sighed, "Please Strategos. I feel broken. I've never asked anyone for comfort, not even when my father died…Do not make me plead, it is not becoming of a queen or princess, whatever you wish to say I am this night. For now I need warmth, come, please lay down and put your arms around me."  Her lids fell shut, her lashes so long they brushed her cheeks. 

As always he regarded her seriously, thinking on her words as though they were official business.  But he felt a waver in his strictly political barrier.  She was reaching out to him, and oddly enough she had stirred something within him.  Companionship was the last thing he thought Sitiah would offer him, but still he could not deny hearing the yearning in her whispers.  It was enough.  He didn't wish to fight her anymore that day.  However as he nudged her to move over he knew that he had not heard the last about her Egyptian Politics. 

He lay down next to her, as she turned on her side to look at him.  They were face to face, barely any space between their heads on the pillows.  Sitiah sighed in contentment.  Her breath smelled like honey, and from that moment on the scent of it would always haunt his memory, as would the perfume she rubbed into her glowing skin.  There was no hesitation when he laid his hand on her cheek smoothing the tears away.  She smiled at this closing her eyes as he began to caress her face with his fingers.  His warm fingertips brushed over her slightly parted lips, which were as velvety as the blue silk of the bed.  Strategos found himself aching to taste her mouth.  He knew she would not protest, but he let his musing wash away with the soothing tide that cleared his weary mind.  He busied himself with the ebony curls picking them up to place them behind her shoulder.  His hands fell to her bare arms, traveling over the flesh several times before they wandered back to her face.  Sitiah said not a word as she opened her eyes a slit and moved her body closer to his.  She snuggled against him fitting her body so that there was no room between them.  Her breath tickling his neck she sent shivers up his spine.  She laid a light kiss on one of the soft places on his neck.  He closed his eyes at the feel of her lips, like a butterfly's wing fluttering once against his flesh.  His arms went about her without a thought drawing her nearer still as though he'd crush her against him.  In response she smiled wriggling from his arms and pushing him to lie back on the bed.  Before he knew her intentions she was atop him her cheek against his chest, her eyes once again closed.  He was startled staring down at the top of her head.  He squeezed his eyes shut, inwardly groaning as he realized she was at that moment falling asleep.  He was much broader than she, so that she could lie comfortably on him as though he were a bed.  But he knew his body beneath her meant more than that to her, and slipped his arms around her slim waist. 

Sleep called to him like it had not in a long time.  He'd always been much too busy to answer its call.  But now he was surprised and delighted to feel it flooding him with ease.  He relaxed, keeping his arms securely around the princess. 

It didn't seem as though he were at the center of the greatest city in the world.  It did not matter that all around the palace were thousands of people of every culture, speaking several different tongues, gathered together in their homes to have their evening meal.  There were only two hearts beating within the palace.  And oddly enough they had started a rhythm that kept every beat in sync. 

Author's Note:

Ahhhhh! It's so hard for me to use those two words anymore: in sync. It gives me the bad shivers, like I'm referring to the pop group. SpuuuuueeewwwwwSkippy style!  LOL I miss watching Animaniacs!  Can ya tell I'm tired? Blimey!

Khamsin is a hot south wind from the Sahara that causes sand storms in Egypt and places the Sahara affects.

                                                         Historical Note:

           As far as I know, there was no dramatic balcony scene in the life of Cleopatra the VII.  Perhaps there were assassination attempts, which do not seem unlikely considering the world in which she lived, but there has never been documentation about such an act.  One thing that is thought to be the truth, is that the night Cleopatra arrived she went to Caesar's bed.  It was nothing new for the great general, for he had a reputation for having a strong sex drive. When word reached Rome however, it was a different story.  It was a scandal to some, and to others it was a reminder of Caesar's dominance in the east, and still there were others who did not care.  Rome's classes all held their own opinion of him.  Caesar is rumored to have had many different affairs, with both men and women.  If you wish to read about that I suggest a nonfiction book about Caesar and his life.  There will be a difference in character when it comes to Strategos.

Cleopatra in comparison to Caesar is thought to have had only two lovers, Caesar himself, and Marcus Antonius, better known as Marc Antony.  Caesar was the 18 year old Cleopatra's, first.

AN: 

I'm still wondering if I should end the fiction with those two and their relationship. Or I should go on and finish her story.  Because, as those of you who've studied this know, there are moments for tears after the story of them getting together.  And I really want Folken to stay as Sitiah's love interest, because… I just luvvvvvvv that studmuffin! Meow! Sorry.  But still there is more to it because there's Marc Antony to consider… I don't know. Well let me know whether I should completely change the story to fit Folken & Sitiah, or I should go on and choose a Marc Antony, or perhaps end it with not all the major events of Cleo's life…  Please, I really need help here!   As for what happens between Straty-Baby and Sitiah on her first night back in Alexandria, I'll let you think on that for a while before I update again.  Gracias for the helpful reviews!     


	7. First Move

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    "I told you, I am the queen's handmaiden! What's so hard to understand?" Isadora's cheeks were flushed with irritation.  She was beginning to wish she had ordered her men to take her through the secret passages into the palace.  Commander Schezar had not allowed her to budge for several hours, questioning her over and over about who she truly was.  Her green eyes took on the look of a potion that contained a deadly poison as she hissed, "Queen Sitiah will not take kindly to my detainment."

Allen smiled politely, secretly indulging in the venomous flash in her eyes.  Smoothly he replied, "Forgive me, my lady, but we must be ever cautious. You see Alexandria is not too fond of our presence here-"

"Right now **_I_** am not too fond of your presence here either!" Isadora cut in with a growl.

"And we are to be on our guard when it comes to all visitors. I mean it's bad enough we let the princess slip by unnoticed- not that having her here is a bad thing, my lady." He ignored her grandly, going on as though she'd never said a thing.  He smiled at her impudently. 

_Gods! I'll throw this man to the mob myself!_ Isadora thought angrily.

She sighed closing her eyes a moment until she felt calm.  She tried again in a more gracious tone, "Commander, my men and I have made a long journey to be here. Now, if you would allow a message to be sent to her Majesty, I'm sure she will be able to explain. And you will have to spend no more time worrying about us."  Isadora gestured lightly to herself and the men behind her.

The man shook his head, "I'm sorry my lady, but as far as I know the princess is in audience with Strategos right now. I could not intrude."  He went around the desk to stand in front of her.  He smiled empathetically at her at her, "If you'll be patient I'll send one of my men to her once the two have…finished."  His words caused some snickers from his officers who glanced at one another impishly. 

Isadora frowned, "What are **_they_** laughing at, Commander?"  Allen shot a glare at the cluster of men to his right, clearing his throat.

Looking back at the woman who sat before him, he feigned innocence, "I- am not sure, my lady. Some trifle of no importance I'm sure."  Isadora's eyes narrowed and she slowly got to her feet facing him three steps away.

"You do know. What is it?" She nodded decisively.  An odd feeling had crept in to her stomach.  Whatever it was they were chuckling at, she knew she would not like.

"I don't think it's something appropriate for a lady-" The man began his hands clasping behind his back as he looked past her stubbornly.

"I can determine that for myself! Now what is it?" She snapped, tired of excuses.  He was surprised by her tone and did not try to hide it.  He blinked, his eyes resting on her again.  He regarded her curiously his brow furrowing as he decided whether or not to tell her.

Finally he said, in an even tone, "Forgive me if this offends you my lady, but I believe they are laughing at the fact that Sitiah was seen in Strategos' chambers."

"What?" Isadora asked in confusion.  She looked down at the carpet on the floor thinking of the last time she had spoken with her queen.  Suddenly realization barreled into her mercilessly, and she gasped.  One hand flew to her mouth, before she could stop herself.  She swallowed, trying to pull herself together.  The last thing she wanted was for the commander to think she needed to be comforted.  She didn't want him or any of his men to think her ignorant, for it would reflect upon the queen she was sure.  She looked back at Allen emotionlessly, her face a mask of nonchalance.  "I see. Well you best tell your men not to imply things about Queen Sitiah, it is rather primitive." She commented, giving the men a cold glower.  Immediately they began to look penitent.

"Again you must-" Allen bowed his head to apologize.  He was interrupted by the sound of the door flying open and crashing against the wall.  Isadora's heart gave a great leap as she turned abruptly to see the dark haired man in the doorway.

"Allen! There's been an attack on Strategos and the princess! Get your men together and go after the culprit, he was wearing robes like an Arab and he has a bow and arrows! Quickly, the east section outside the palace!" Van shouted over the sound of soldiers flying past the security office.  Their boots echoed down the corridor as well as their shouts.

Allen's eyes took on a steely blue glint and he nodded sternly, "Right away, Lord prince. Let's go. Someone take the message to Gaddes."  He strode to the door, all trace of casualness gone from his tall figure.  The three guards in the corner trailed him without a word, looking as serious and determined as their commander.

"Where is Sitiah?" Isadora demanded her eyes wide with anxiety.

For the first time Van seemed to take notice of her, "Who are you?"

"My name is Isadora," She replied hurriedly rushing toward him, "I am the queen's handmaiden. Where is she?"  Before she knew it she had taken a hold of his arms, her hands shaking tremulously.

To his surprise, as well as to hers he clasped her arms within his hands responding, "I know who you are. The princess told my servant to watch for you. You are the one she calls Prophetess, no?"  He was gently leading her away from the door back towards the chair.

"Yes, but what of her majesty? Is she hurt-" Isadora pleaded allowing him to seat her in a chair.  She watched as he quickly pulled up another placing it in front of her.  He sat down leaning forward to watch her every move.

He shook his head, "She is fine. She's with my brother, he has kept her safe."

"Your brother?" Isadora cried finally recognizing who he was.  _My dreams! He is here! _

Seeing the fear grow in her eyes he gently took her hands into his coaxing, "My brother is Strategos, he will let no harm come to her, I swear it."  He was studying her intently, amazed by the emerald eyes, and the pale skin.  She suddenly looked up at him feeling how heated his hands were in comparison to hers.  A blush crept into her cheeks and she hastily pulled her hands away.

Bowing her head she murmured nervously, "Your-highness. It is an honor to- finally meet you-"

"But we have met before!" He insisted his eyes holding hers.  His voice startled her as much as his words.  She was speechless staring at him as though he'd spoken a foreign language.

"I-I don't-" She stuttered in shock.  He sighed, frowning at himself in frustration.

He said quietly, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- scare you."  Sympathy shimmered suddenly in her eyes as she looked at the black hair falling into his face.  He shook his head slowly muttering softly to himself.  He looked back up at her, his face calm.  "I'm sorry about the commander, he did not know about you… You received a poor welcome, forgive me. We were all surprised at the arrival of the princess, so… If you'd like I can escort you into the palace." He said.  The guards behind her paid close attention to him, but said nothing as they exchanged glances.

Isadora, too worried to protest sighed, "Thank you, your highness."  She took his hand as he offered it politely.  The prince helped her stand and led her to the door. 

Miles' eyes narrowed as he stalked behind them, just in range of hearing.  His companion, another of Isadora's guard, aware of his duty, solemnly stared ahead keeping his eyes open for any danger.

As they made their way from the security wing toward the main hall Isadora wondered about her strange first encounter with the prince.  What had he meant by 'we have met before'?  She tried to keep the confusion that gnawed at her from her features.  Behind the thin gauzy veil she pursed her lips as she stole a glance at the man beside her.  He was as fine as he had appeared in her dreams.  His manners had unsettled her a bit for she had seen the wild and stubborn gleam in his red-brown eyes.  She knew that there was more to him than the princely airs he had covered his blunt words with.  It was odd to her that she held his hand and felt at ease, though her mind was so fogged by the events that had transpired. 

_This feels natural. Holding his hand like this, as though I am his princess, passing through the halls of my own palace. I know he feels at ease in this too, but why? I am only a servant, a prophetess… But then, I saw him; I knew I would meet him one day. I did not think it would be this soon, but I knew._  She shook herself mentally as she realized they had stopped.  He had turned towards her waiting for her to respond and do the same.  She finally turned to him.

"Is something wrong, your majesty?" She inquired.

"Yes. I don't know your name," He said seriously with a frown.

"Isadora, your majesty," She replied slowly.

The prince shook his head as though refusing her words.  "Your real name." He demanded.  Isadora took to biting her lip as her brows drew together in befuddlement.  Before she could get her head straight he pressed, "Your name, Prophetess." 

Her crisp green eyes flashed with a heat that swept through her.  What did he want from her?  Then her mouth opened in awe as she searched his face.  _How does he know?_

She swallowed, and then questioned quietly, "You have visions?"

"No, I hear words. Little whispers that tell me true things." He replied mildly, his eyes never leaving her face.  Again he urged her, "Tell me your name, Prophetess. The name you were born with."

Her breath caught in her throat, tears glossing her eyes and she whispered, "Hitomi. My name-was-is…Hitomi."  An old ache began to throb in her again.  She wanted to run from him suddenly, to hide from his seeking gaze.  A sigh escaped her, one full of hurt.  She shook her head slowly, no longer able to meet his eyes.  She stared at the shine on the floor; it gave her a glimpse of her own reflection.  She saw the white glittering veil hiding all but her eyes.  Still she could see the pink lips and pale nose through the thin material.  She watched as the gown ruffled lightly as a breeze wound its way through the hall.  But the stillness that had fallen over her spun away as a vision gripped her in panic.  It was over as soon as it had come, leaving her with jangled nerves and a headache that whirled black.

                    The singing was soft, pleasant sounding as it dipped and flowed.  She could hear the words, but could make no sense of them.  The language she recognized immediately as Egyptian, but her head hurt too much to translate.  Still she was soothed by the gentle voice, its low tone caressing each note.  She forced herself to open her eyes.  Her vision was blurred for a moment, but slowly focused.  She could see the colors of the peacock fan as it rose and fell.  She breathed in the fresh air it offered and moved her head slightly, turning away from the figure holding the fan.  The pain was numbing, slipping away with every second.  She sat up, placing her hands behind her to prop herself up.  She looked around the familiar arrangement of her large room.  Finally her eyes rested on the queen still singing as she brushed her long hair.  Her hair was truly black, almost a dark blue, as it shone in the sunlight streaming in from the balcony to the left of where she sat.  She began to hum the tune with a smile her eyes turning to her Prophetess.

"My lady-" Isadora hurriedly tried to question about the queen's health.

The queen silenced her with one finger to her lips, "Be quiet, dearest. It is morning, and you have slept well."  Isadora nodded closing her mouth, waiting as Sitiah set the brush on the bench she sat on, stood, and crossed the floor to stand by the bed.  The queen smiled down at her and sat down next to her.  "Leave us." She murmured to the women who worked about the room.  They bowed to her and left without a word. 

When the door closed behind them Isadora asked quietly, "What has happened, my lady?"  She stared at Sitiah as the woman looked away from her silently.  Patiently she waited for the queen to speak her mind.

"The man who tried to kill me has disappeared. Strategos' soldiers have given up at his orders. It'd be too difficult to find a man with such a vague description. Alexandria has swallowed him up, and shall keep his secrets." She said staring at the space near the door.

"Majesty," Isadora began hesitantly, "I…have…had another vision."  She finished hurriedly studying her mistress for a reaction.

Sitiah only nodded, "Yes. You passed out. The prince picked you up and put you in his own bed, before a messenger came to me. The prince even carried you to your room at my request."  Her voice was distant, unemotional almost.  Isadora blinked several times as she sucked in her breath sharply.

"Gods! Majesty! The prince himself brought me here? And-and- I was in his bed?" Isadora seemed horrified.  _How could- But why when I- Gods! I have completely made a fool of myself! And in front of the prince, no less!_  She was shaken by the thoughts, flushing red with embarrassment.

"Shh, Isa! Do not become so frantic!" Sitiah scolded her with a frown.  She looked at the girl who swallowed hard, but managed to compose herself.  "You can thank him later," She said looking away again, "Now tell me of the vision."  Isadora nodded meekly with a little sigh.

"It was all in symbols. I can't remember much, but I was gripped with this feeling of- hate- so much of it- I- saw Osiris and then Isis- They were both consumed in a fire- and then splattered with blood. There were voices-people calling out to them-but they stood-like-like statues and didn't answer. Men were shouting-in all different languages- Fanelian and Greek- E-Egyptian…But they just stood there-they didn't even try to flee from the fire-and sparks just kept flying at them from every direction-I-I wanted so badly to save them! I-was…" Isadora shook her head, her shaking hands slowly going to cover her face.  Sitiah was staring at her with a mix of shock and pity.  The woman leaned toward Isadora to capture her in a hug.  The prophetess gave way to tears relaxing into her friend's comforting embrace.  "It is the future." She whispered fervently against the woman's hair.  Sitiah said nothing as she stroked the sandy hair that fell to the girl's back.  Isadora was so accustomed to the queen's warmth that she squeezed tighter to her as more tears fell.  After a while she sniffed pulling away gently.  She wiped at her face as she apologized, "I'm sorry, Sitiah. It was- terrifying."

Smiling weakly Sitiah nodded pushing away the strands of hair from the girl's face.  "Of course it was, darling, it's good that you cried."  She watched as Isadora blinked away the last tears and took a steadying breath.

"Thank you." Isadora smiled.  She looked down at the covers over her legs with a sad frown.  "I don't want it-to come-to come true." She said, though her lips still trembled.  Sitiah's hands suddenly fell from her servant's soft cheeks that glistening with trails the tears had left.  She became frozen and aloof, no longer looking at Isadora.  At that moment the door was knocked upon, and immediately pushed open.

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but this could not wait!" Miles panted falling to one knee at her feet, his head bowed.  He looked up, his eyes shadowed by a dark cloud.  He stared at the side of the queen's face, and said stonily, "Ptolemy has come."  The queen shut her eyes tight at his words and took a deep breath.  She let it out as her eyes came open slowly.

She said, "Thank you, Miles. Stand guard at the door of your lady, until I send for her."  Miles gave a solemn nod and was off his knee in an instant, hurrying out the door, which closed behind him.  Quickly Sitiah turned to Isadora, "Please, be ready to go to the audience hall with me when I get back."  The prophetess opened her mouth to argue, but she silenced her with a pleading look.  "I must go retrieve something from my chamber, hurry and ready yourself." She said urgently.  On her feet she squeezed her friend's arm affectionately and flew off toward the passage that led to her own quarters. 

"Ugh-" Isadora made to protest.  She frowned, at a loss for words.  _Ptolemy is here, and yes, I know he's a threat her, but…She seemed as though she was anxious about something. She's unsure of doing something-I know it. I saw it in her eyes when she looked at me so…so worriedly. Oh, Isis, please don't let her do something to ruin her chances! Let her not make this drama more scandalous!_  Her eyes widened, and she tossed the covers aside and scrambled to her feet. 

"What have you done, Sitiah?" She cried running to the chest where she had placed her gowns.  _What are you going to do?!_

      Strategos narrowed his eyes at the boy who tried bravely to hold his chin high, though he was nervous under the weighty stare.  Ptolemy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

He could see Pothinus out of the corner of his eye, his bulky figure looming over his right shoulder.  He found himself not comforted by the knowledge of the regent supporting him silently.  The boy saw the sweat trickling from the wig upon his advisors head.  Pothinus was no more pleased to be under Strategos' scrutiny than he.  He swallowed glancing at the frowning prince who stood with his arms folded over his chest.  His eyes went back to rest on the emperor who was rising from his chair.  Folken went towards the group, stopping a few feet from them.  He inclined his head to the young boy, then stared at him with his mysterious eyes.  Ptolemy gave a curt nod waiting for the man to speak.

After leaving the boy in suspense he smiled mildly, "Prince Ptolemy, what has kept you?"

Ptolemy hesitated for a long second before he could choke out, "I-I'm sorry?"

"I thought you would be in Alexandria, as you should have been. What took you to Pelusium?" Strategos asked casually wandering back to his chair.

"Oh," Ptolemy could no longer meet the man's gaze, "Yes. Pelusium. Well-my sister- Si-Sitiah has gathered an army and-wishes to fight me for rule of Egypt. But-she-hasn't made a move yet-we're waiting for- for her to move-"

"But I have moved, dear brother." Her voice carried like a warm wind into the chamber.  Ptolemy and his retinue whipped around to stare at her, their jaws dropped.  She glided past them in cloak of deep red velvet and went to stand before Strategos.  She showed her respect to him with her normal grace.  She smiled at him seeing the light trace of surprise on his features, it vanished.  He looked at his general's cloak she had hidden her body beneath.  As she walked around him to acknowledge his brother, he noticed her bare feet. 

The cloak trailed her like a train on a gown as she went to the other side of the table and seated herself.   She crossed her legs, one knee over the other, letting the slit in the cloak fall from her thighs.  Half of her naked thighs were exposed and she smoothed the cloak casually over her lap.  He watched as she stood leaning across the table with a smile only to pick up his cup of half finished wine.  She was careful to cover her chest as she did so and sat back down sipping calmly from the cup of gold.  Folken's attention went to the boy-king suddenly as a scream pierced the silence.  His face scrunched in anger, Ptolemy balled his fists in front of his chest.  He screeched again shaking his head violently.

"No, no, no, no!" He shouted, tears squeezing from the squinted eyes.  "No! She's here! How-how-grrrrrrr!" He jumped up and down in a fury.  "Why Sitiah? I am king! You ca-can't do this!" His voice broke until it was so high it hurt his throat.  Tears streaming down his face he whirled around to punch the large belly of his advisor, "Poth-inus! She is here!"  The portly man was abashed, standing dumbly as he watched his king throw such a fit.  Finally, balling, and hiccupping, young Ptolemy, turned and ran from the room. 

Frowning sternly Strategos ordered, "Bring him back. Send him to his room until he has calmed himself. The rest of you are dismissed. Sitiah, stay." 

Sitiah said nothing, watching like a wide-eyed innocent as the men trudged out murmuring amongst themselves.  She smiled wickedly at their retreating figures now arguing as the door closed.  She quelled the feeling of triumph rising in her as Folken got to his feet.  She hid her smile looking up at him lazily.  He slowly wandered around the table his hands clasped behind his back as he fixed her with a solemn stare.  She smugly raised her chin, ignoring him as he stopped in front of her.  He bent resting his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in towards her.  She still sat quietly pretending not to see his face a few inches away from her right cheek that she'd turned to him. 

"Do you know what you've done, Sitiah?" He asked coolly.  She turned her head slowly meeting his eyes.

"Bought myself some time, Strategos." She answered directly without flinching.  He stayed where he was, letting the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of his name on her tongue lose its strength.  With sudden courage she brought her lips a finger width from his.  She whispered seductively, "I, am the Queen of Egypt." 

He recognized the challenge within her eyes and returned just as quietly, "Yes, and your king has run from the palace in a fit."  Her eyes narrowed and she slowly sat back resting against the chair.

"He is only a child." She said looking away from him.

"So he is, and your husband as well," Strategos stood looking down at her with a smirk.

"I had no choice. To be queen, I had to follow tradition." She snapped, annoyed by his taunting tone.

"Hmm," He hummed walking toward the end of the hall.  He smiled teasingly, "And is it not tradition to share your husband's bed?"

Sitiah stood up abruptly turning swiftly, her black hair flying behind her, only to crash against her cheek.  "He is a boy! I would never think of sharing his bed!"  Her eyes had grown light again in her frustration.

"Ahh, but you must have an heir, how will you-" He cut off watching from the corner of his eye as she stormed toward him.

"Don't mock me!" She swung at him with her open hand, but he caught it twisting it so that she was forced to stand at his side.  "Do not think you can hold me." She glared at him.  He laughed swinging her towards him to take hold of her other wrist.  Facing her, he saw the outrage in her eyes.  The look amused him, and he felt suddenly free of all the weight he carried as emperor.  The look in her eyes filled him with a joy that he couldn't explain.  "Why do you laugh? How can you-" She cried, but could not finish as Strategos drew her closer kissing her lips with an intense passion.

Author's Note:

Sorry about the long chapter.  I hope you enjoyed it though.  So, we finally know who Isadora is… Though I'm sure most of you figured that mystery out, and you probably didn't even need Scooby-Doo to help ya! Is any one upset about recreating the classic so that the characters suck? Sorry, that really bugs me! The originals are being butchered, man! Whoops, sorry about that little spaz! Anyway, thanks so very much for reviewing!

                                                                    Historical Note:

The tantrum that Ptolemy threw in the palace is supposedly true.  Remember Ptolemy was only about eleven or twelve at the time.  He is believed to have been in his father's will along with Cleopatra.  But for either to have any power they had to marry. 

Now, Cleopatra the VII was completely Macedonian, there was no Egyptian blood in her (though in my story she is half).  But she was the first ruler to take such interest in her country as to learn its ancient language.  She knew how to read and write in Egyptian, and Greek, and at least five other languages, as well as to speak them.  She was a well-educated woman and is thought to have filled her tomb with scrolls about philosophy, the arts, and sciences, and works by her favorite authors.  As a young girl she was taught about all aspects of ruling in Egypt.  And was a good leader because of the lessons she learned.     


	8. Shifting Scales

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Big thanks to all of you that reviewed. Honestly I'm so grateful to hear from you! You're all so wonderfully supportive, it just breaks my lil 'ol heart!

I appreciate it more than you could know. Thank you.  This chapter is dedicated to all of you! I cannot express my most humble thanks!

                    Isadora watched wide-eyed as the prince ran down the corridor his sobs and screams startling her more than they ever had.  She'd known the boy since he was a baby, and could remember all of his frightful fits that had increased in severity as he grew.  But never had she seen him more disheveled.  However, before she could try to go after him, to offer any sort of comfort, his retinue burst from the audience hall as well.  Pothinus and his hangers-on babbled in outrage, shooting murderous looks at the handmaiden as they scurried by.  Isadora scowled at their backs, wondering what exactly had happened.  She was just about to question her guard when she heard the door open once again.  She turned to see the prince shaking his head in astonishment.  He looked up to lock eyes with her, as though he had sensed her presence and knew exactly where to find her.  Isadora swallowed unintentionally, as she tried to tear her gaze from his, but failed.  She could feel the blush of unease rising to her pale cheeks.  Her hands nervously sought each other, and she tugged on them, fidgeting anxiously.  He started towards her, keeping his eyes on her face.  She could not stand staring into the sensual depths of his eyes any longer and finally turned her head away.  Van stopped two steps away, watching her intently. 

After a few moments of silence she forced herself to bow her head and curtsey, "Your highness."

"Good afternoon, Prophetess." He said politely.  His voice was warm, but restrained as though talking to an old acquaintance.  Isadora kept her head bowed, her eyes on the tiles.  With a half smile he prompted, "Your lady certainly is full of tricks…She seems to have captured my brother's attention."

Isadora's head snapped up and she replied hotly, "My lady is not full of trickery! She is an honest woman!"

Taken aback Van blinked several times.  He shook his head, spreading his hands, saying quickly, "No, no. I meant- nothing by it…I just…" He trailed off uncertainly.

"Oh."  Isadora's anger was swiftly replaced by a frown of regret.  She bit her lower lip, bowing her head again.  "I'm s-sorry your highness, I shouldn't have- said anything." She apologized. 

He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, "It's okay, Hitomi."  She flinched at the use of her former name.  And looked up at him, questioning him silently.  Immediately he looked slightly worried, seeing the trace of ache in her eyes.  He wondered why she reacted like he had broken a taboo.  Slowly he asked, "Have I offended you?"

She shook her hurriedly, "No, it's only that…I'm called Isadora now."

"Oh." He said shortly.  He thought on it a moment, then with a smile murmured softly, "'Gift of the moon'."  Blushing furiously now, Isadora just nodded, unable to meet his amused gaze.

"Uh- yes. But could you tell me now, your highness, what's going on?" She looked at him trying to keep a seriousness to her face.  However she knew that her face showed her lack of confidence.  She found herself uneasy in his presence, unable to completely swallow the fact that he was real and not just a dream.  He was the exact image of the young man in her dream, but still she didn't wish to recognize it.

"Yeah, but just call me Van. After all I'm not a prince of Egypt. It's- awkward. I never really liked the title." He looked to his right, distracted by thoughts of the past.  Reality crashed into him in an instant and he was gazing at the woman before him.  He shrugged again with his boyish casualty, "I guess seeing Sitiah caused Ptolemy to throw a hissy-fit. He just ran out. Strategos has ordered that he be brought back and calmed before he admits him again."

Isadora frowned rubbing her thumb over the emerald in her ring, "I see."  She remained silent for a while mulling over the prince's words.  _So…the little brat is crying about Sitiah being here. Ha! Serves him right for trying to kill her… I guess I feel bad for him though, I mean, that greedy Pothinus and_ _his lackeys are juggling him, filling his head with the idea that he will have complete power... They're such bullies. But…what will Strategos do? Will he try to influence the king? I wonder what will happen to Sitiah then…will she still be queen?_  Her eyes wide with worry she questioned, "What will Strategos do?"  Surprised by the fear he heard in her voice he focused on her again.  His cinnamon eyes narrowed speculatively watching her suddenly impatient features.

"I haven't discussed it with my brother. No one ever knows what he'll do." He finally replied.  Suspicion had crept under his skin and slithered its way into his thoughts.  He knew very well that in politics no one could be trusted, no matter how honest they seemed, or how beautifully their eyes sparkled.  It didn't seem unlikely to him that the woman he spoke with might have been a spy for the queen.  He was suddenly irritated, as though she was a prying enemy.  He gauged her reaction cautiously.

Isadora's eyes roved over the room fretfully.  She shook her head, "He can't think to- go against her, can he?"  She appealed to him hopefully.

Van looked away in an almost cold manner saying simply, "He does what he wants."

Her shoulders fell as she sighed quietly to herself.  _Oh, Isis. _ She tried again in earnest, "But he has listened to her, hasn't he? At least considered her points?"

"Look, I don't know what he's thinking! But I know no matter how much your princess bats her eyelashes and pouts her pretty lips, she will not blind my brother to whatever truth he sees." He shot at her his eyes darkened with mistrust.  Unnerved by his tone Isadora took a step back, her guards immediately stepping forward at the action.  The prince just glared at one then the other and then looked back at her face.

"Sitiah is not some- courtesan. She isn't trying to woo him with her looks." She returned innocently.  _How can he think of her like that?_  Van only snorted in derision, tossing his head.  He scowled at her then turned on his heel and walked away from her without a word.  "Van!" She called after him bewildered by his sharpness, "Your- highness!"  The doors at the other end of the hall shut behind him.  The sound seemed to echo long after they had closed, leaving Hitomi with a feeling of emptiness.  She didn't understand his sudden change of mood toward her.  It made her feel as though her stomach had sunken into a black pit.  She frowned forlornly.  _Why? Why- the sudden change in his attitude? I thought he- Well he acted as though he were my friend-and then-he just now…Is he really the one I saw in my visions?_

                    Astonished Sitiah tried to catch her breath as she stared up at the man's smiling face.  The laughter of his officers heated her, and she blushed trying to grasp what had happened.  She frowned in confusion, then feeling the anger building she stepped away, yanking her wrists from his grasp. 

"You- uncivilized Fanelian!" She shouted at him, in a fine fury.  She brought her hand back to slap him, but once again he caught her arm expertly before she could strike his cheek.  He laughed in amusement as though she were a temperamental child.  Again she roared at him, "Do not touch me as though I'm some eager harlot who wants you in her bed!"  She twisted in his grip as he laughed even harder.

"You seemed eager to have me there last night!" He replied nonchalantly, mirth flooding his voice.  His men had not heard such good humor in him, and chuckled and encouraged his comment heartily, though they were surprised at his change in behavior.  Sitiah however had frozen in wide-eyed horror. 

She stared at him in disbelief.  Pain intensified her look, bringing a pang of remorse to Folken.  But it was only a glimmer of her hurt for it disappeared, as fast as it had come, in the wave of bitter anger.  Folken had loosened his grip, and she took advantage of his moment of pity, pulling away from his hands.

"You are an unmannerly wretch! A disease upon my household! You and your incompetent dimwits burst into my palace, eat my food, steal from Egypt's storehouses, and call yourself honorable Fanelians!" She cried backing away from him.  Rage had taken hold of her body, making her tremble with its intensity.  The room had gone silent as though death had crept in and left them all standing without breath.  Sitiah however had plenty of air and let her fury spill out fully.  She actually spat on the floor at his feet. 

Her expression one of complete disgust and dislike she continued, "And you- Folken Strategos- are worst of all. Running my palace as though you were king and had conquered here! Taking liberties you have no right to even speak of! You are a boorish thief, taking what doesn't belong to you, and proclaiming yourself the world's emperor!"  She whirled away flying down the steps of the dais, storming towards the double doors.  She turned abruptly to face him again, "You are not **_my_** emperor!"  Two guards rushed to bar her way and she hissed like a wrathful cat. 

"Queen Sitiah!" Folken's voice boomed in the large chamber sending a shiver down her spine.  She stood still her shoulders heaving with every breath.  She closed her eyes fighting back the angry tears that burned like acid.  She opened them again clenching her teeth as she listened as he stomped down the stairs to the tiles.  The chamber remained quiet for some time, everyone with a voice afraid to speak.  Sitiah frowned, feeling exhausted by the flood of resentment that had ravaged her.  Hesitantly she turned to face him again as he stood watching her from across the hall. 

Her weary whispers carried through the hall to him, "You've called me Queen…Strategos."

"Yes," His voice was unsteady with his own displeasure, "You are restored to queen. And your brother will remain king by your side, so that there will be no civil war in Egypt. His army will be brought back in peace."  She could not speak.  She wanted to cry for joy, and fall into a deep perfect sleep all at the same time.  She allowed herself a little smile.  And Strategos knew it was meant for him, and him alone.

"Leave us." She murmured barely above a whisper.  Strategos ordered them to do what she'd said with a simple look, and the ten men within the room departed without hesitation.  When the door had closed behind them the silence seemed definite in the hall.  Her throat aching, Sitiah managed a little cry as she launched herself into his arms.  Her arms went about him, and she closed her eyes as the tears poured.  She lay her cheek against the leather vest loving the solidity of the chest that she knew lay beneath.  As she sobbed, shivering and pathetic against him he said nothing refusing the urge to wrap his arms around her.  She'd wounded him more than anyone ever had.  He felt the sting like a deep cut slashed across his heart and down into his soul.  He could feel every shaking breath she took as she clung to him desperately.  Strategos realized that he had hurt her as well with his ungentlemanly comments.  Also though he knew that she held to him because he was truly her last safe guard, her only protector.  He sighed with that knowledge, touched by its meaning.  Never had he felt so protective of someone, or so comforted by one's touch.  Wards had been cast aside, barriers breached without a thought.  He'd never been so reckless.  And never been so sure of himself in all his years.

                    "Oh he was just like a cobra! With eyes so- chilling- I swear, your highness, I could've sworn he was going to ring Ptolemy's little neck right there! He was so very white! He had no color left in that handsome face of his!" Cressida babbled as she carefully pinned her lady's hair.

Laughing Sitiah replied, "You find him handsome too, Cressida?"

"Devilishly so, your majesty! Set himself would say so! And what a strong man he is too. And sensitive- I heard after he dismissed Ptolemy and his fleas, that he cried over poor Pompey's unseemly murder! He's a soldier besides..." She chattered brightly, her lips curling into a sly grin.

"Cressida, where did you pick up all this?" Isadora questioned tracing the gold designs on the blue blanket she lay on.  Cressida laughed, her pale blue eyes dazzling with delight.

"I'm surprised at you, Priestess! Why would you ask such a thing?" Cressida scoffed pretending to be offended.  She turned to the girl who lounged on her mistress' bed.

"I don't know," Isadora sighed with a roll of her eyes, "I guess I thought you'd slip and reveal your sources."  She laid her chin on her hands, watching as Cressida snorted and tossed her blond-brown hair over her shoulders.   All of the women about the chamber giggled at the joke, shaking their heads.

"I'm personally very glad Cressida has such a unique skill for overhearing conversations. Now, tell me what Strategos said." Sitiah smiled eagerly into the mirror.

"Yes, Majesty, I was getting there," The woman replied patiently as she poured oil into her hands.  Isadora frowned from her place on the bed, wishing Cressida would finish her story.  Cressida glanced at her, but ignored the look and went on working the scented oil into the queen's hair. 

"Strategos was very displeased with the news Pothinus presented him with. He told that repulsive swine to 'wipe the smug smile off his face and shove it up his ass'. He then told Ptolemy he was a 'spoiled and pathetic crybaby who had no true heart to be king'. He was practically breathing fire with each word, but he didn't move at all, and he kept his voice so steady, your majesty! He said to Ptolemy that he was only king by your side and that he'd better disarm his army at the border, because there would be no civil war. He proceeded to tell Pothinus that he didn't dare argue because there was no changing his mind, and that Ptolemy could be taken into the desert to throw a tantrum, but he would not hear it or hear any petitions against you." Cressida told her gossip in a mild tone, exaggerating very little.  By then Sitiah was on her feet, laughing so lightly and fully that it filled the room with its lighthearted warmth.  But there was a coldness that only Isadora could hear, a triumphant mocking to her laughter.

A smile lighting all her features, Sitiah glided back to her servant, "Cressida! You're art is a source of great humor!"  She kissed Cressida's cheek gratefully.  She grinned, "Thank you, my eyes and ears."  The woman bowed her head politely returning the smile.  "You are dismissed for the day." Sitiah cupped one of Cressida's olive cheeks in her hand.

"Majesty, I'm afraid I cannot accept such a kind gift until I have told you all I need to." The servant said so that only the queen and her Prophetess could hear.  She cast sidelong glances at the other servants around the chamber.  Immediately Sitiah's smile fled and was replaced by a look of seriousness.  With a snap of her fingers the others became aware of the queen's desire for privacy.  They gathered the beads and silks they'd been using and left.  Sitiah sat back down on the bench and indicated to Cressida to take a seat on the bed beside Isadora.  Cressida stood still, in front of the queen.  The comfort of an old friendship settled around them, but the air was tense with a feeling of dread.  The queen's Eyes and Ears did not act so very somber unless it was to report something Sitiah would not want to hear. 

When Cressida was positive she did not hear any stirring within the room she whispered, "Majesty, I know this message will not surprise you, but it is of importance."  Sitiah nodded in understanding, weighing Cressida's look carefully.

Isadora, who had sat up stiffly upon the bed, asked lowly, "You're sure that no one knows that you have such information?"  Her green eyes roved between the woman and her mistress.  The servant nodded certainly.  She stared directly into the queen's anxious eyes, her face a mask of solemnity.

"Arsinoe has requested a private audience with Strategos," She stated bluntly.  The complete silence seemed like a heavy brocade curtain surrounding them. 

Sitiah's face became blank, no emotion in her features to indicate her judgment of the message.  Those few words were all she needed to hear to know exactly what Cressida was implying.  And she was sure that her servant was thinking rightly.  Closing her eyes as anger heated her blood, she took a breath as though to say something, but just sat quietly.  Like a statue she sat, barely breathing, cold and impenetrable as stone.  Isadora remained tense her eyes glued to the still figure.  She visibly flinched when the queen rose to her feet like a flash.  She still could not read any feeling on her mistress's face.  A sigh escaped Sitiah's lips, her muscles relaxing with her breath.  She began to look merely bored, rather than annoyed. 

Her lips twitched with a devious smile, "He will not betray me. Arsinoe has no hope of convincing him to name her queen."

"My lady, he has granted her request to a private audience." Cressida mentioned tonelessly.  It took great effort not to step back when the queen turned to her, her eyes blazing.  She stood her ground, not allowing herself to look away from Sitiah's demanding gaze.  She could practically feel the break in the queen's composure.  Within the eyes of that woman, Cressida could see the grief and rage colliding with one another.  Her eyes could not follow as Sitiah raced across the room to fall onto her couch.

"Bitch!" Sitiah hissed at the ceiling her fists clenching by her sides.  "The traitorous bitch. She's been scheming the whole time- against me! And now she's set her sights on Strategos!" She muttered venomously to herself.  _Why is my family so insistent about going against me?_

Historical Note_:_

So much for family relations!  But then again the whole family scheming thing had been going on for generations.  Everybody wanted power in Egypt! Think of Tutankhamun: He had an older brother (perhaps slash cousin, ewww) that ruled for a short time before him, but was found dead w/ in his bed.  Not only had his older brother been assassinated, but his cousin, his brother's wife had been killed as well.  And even now there are many speculations about Tutankhamun's death as well. Was it an accident, or a planned murder?  So you see, Egypt's history is riddled with the family vs. family situation throughout the years.  The Ptolemies were no different when they came to power.

Egypt's people truly proclaimed Arsinoe queen, though she was younger than Cleopatra, and had no more Egyptian blood than the rest of her family.  But in the end Cleopatra won the people over with her skill as a ruler.

Next Chapter:  Sitiah is finally queen, but her king is not by her side for long. With no support from her last remaining family she is forced to take action against them. She must put her complete faith in Strategos and his ability, or the queenship will be lost for her. 

Meanwhile…Dilandau receives news from his spies in Alexandria.  He realizes that Strategos has no opposition for emperor.  But there's still the question of who will be his heir.  If Folken has no son of his flesh, Dilandau knows he must choose between him, and Van.  And it seems as though Strategos might not make it out of Alexandria alive…       


	9. Insecurities

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                  The door creaked open and Strategos lumbered in, unbuckling the sword belt around his waist.  He tossed it on a gilt chair and stopped to look around the chamber for her.  Isadora dropped the pitcher to the floor, searching desperately for her ability to speak, to protest, to say anything.  Wine splashed the hem of her dress and puddled at her feet, but still she stood staring at the man who watched her from near the end of the bed.  She could not read his features; they were unchanging, inhuman like a sculpture. 

         His voice carrying quietly to her startled her even more, "You aught to be more careful, Prophetess."  There was no hint of disdain, or humor, not even irritation, and it unnerved her immensely.  She left the silence hanging, unable to spill out the words that were so wildly spinning in her brain.

         He asked, "Where is she?" Isadora blinked and numbly stretched her arm out to point to the balcony.  His eyes flicked to the balcony and he headed toward it without another word.  He brushed one curtain aside and stepped farther on to the balcony.  Through the gauzy lilac fabric you could see his outline and hear his slightly muffled greeting, "Good evening, your highness."

         "Strategos." Isadora heard the queen reply.

Cressida was on her knees at Isadora's feet wiping up the spill.  Suddenly the priestess could take a breath and she went down on her knees to help.  Cressida handed her a cloth, but kept her eyes on the crimson mess before her. 

          Isadora finding her voice whispered, "I'm sorry. I just-I don't know what I was thinking!"

          Cressida still did not raise her eyes but whispered back, "It's alright. Speak quietly, so as not to interrupt them." 

          Isadora frowned, then her eyes widened and she franticly murmured, "What do you mean? I didn't think- How- How long has this been going on? I mean how long has he- been coming to her room- like this?"

          Only glancing up once the woman replied quietly, "Since she arrived."

          "And are they-" The Prophetess' voice had risen.

          "Shh!" Cressida hastily hushed her with a frown, "Don't upset them! Honestly, Isa, have you forgotten how to be a proper servant?"  She shook her head and sighed.  The white cloth was stained with the red liquid, and the crisp marble tile lay clean again.  Finally sitting back on her calves she looked at the girl and said softly, "As far as I know he's only slept in the same bed with her. Others seem to think differently. Especially after the stunt she pulled this morning. But I don't know. She hasn't said anything to me."  Isadora swallowed looking down at the glare on the tile.  Cressida remained quiet for a moment then took the cloth from her friend's hand.  "Go change. You've gotten wine all over your dress. Bring incense, Sitiah wishes you to burn it at the shrine in here. Go on." Cressida ordered her lightly.  The girl only nodded slowly, getting to her feet as though she were much older than she truly was.  Cressida watched as she made it to the door sluggishly, taking every step as though she were arthritic.  When the door closed she dropped the rags into a bucket with a sloping sound.

          The air was warm though the sun sunk lower and lower with each passing second.  The breezes came in with the tide, carrying scents from all over the city, the sweetest ones from the palace gardens.  The tiles on the balcony were heated from the blinding rays of the sun that had fallen unmercilessly on it all day.  Strategos could feel it through the warn soles of his boots.  The wind tossed the queen's hair about playfully, and she casually moved it behind one ear before rolling up the rest of the scroll in her hands.  She sat it down on her lap and raised her eyes to look at the man towering to her right a couple steps away.

          "Have you been out here long?" He asked.

          "Since I retired from the banquet hall." She replied taking a calming breath of air gazing around at the ever-darkening sky. 

         "I see." He said scanning the evening twilight as well.  He looked down at her taking two small steps toward the couch she lay on, "What were you reading?"

          She moved over slightly, not looking up at him as she replied, "Poetry. It was given to me by one of my Arab mercenaries. I didn't get a chance to read anything other than reports in the desert."  Her voice was soft, without a touch of anger or annoyance.  She was only Sitiah with him, gentle, and controlled, unwavering in her mild manner.  He realized how hard it was to restrain himself from sweeping her up in his arms, to smell her hair as he buried his face in its downy brilliance.  He knew that she was vulnerable, that the mask she used for politics was put away for the night.

         "Will you stay with me tonight?" She asked, looking up at him curiously.  She had made it his decision, with no pleading in her voice, or sign that she truly wanted him to.  It was an open look she stared at him with, one that told him that she would be happy to welcome him to her bed again, but would not think on it if he refused.  He sat down on the edge next to where her knees rose off the couch.

          Raising one hand to stroke her cheek he asked, "Do you need me tonight?"  She looked out again to the east scanning the horizon that was a deepening purple-blue.  Faint stars winked at her just above the crowded buildings. 

         Sitiah smiled back at him nonchalantly, "No, Strategos, I do not."

         "You are happy that you are now queen." He said, dropping his hand from the silkiness of her face as he tried his best to keep the disappointment from his voice.  However she heard it, and knew that he thought that she had only wanted him when she had nothing.  She shook her head with a slightly humored smile, tugging with her hands at the pale locks of hair that had fallen over his shoulder.  He looked at her, keeping his face neutral, though he knew she could see through it.  She continued to let her fingers slide from his satiny hair.

         "I'm happy that I am queen. But I'm also happy because you are near me." She whispered in a voice so sweet it seemed no more than a perfumed breeze.  The hairs on his arms seemed to stand on end as a shiver coursed through him as she leaned her head closer in to his.  Her hands were suddenly full of his lustrous strands massaging through it as though he were no more than pampered pet of hers.  One hand wrapped in his hair she brought to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent.  She sighed into his ear, "You are tired, let me help you to bed."  Gracefully she swung her legs down, to touch her bare feet to the floor, dropping her hands only to take his.  He stood up turning to help her rise in front of him.  Her hands were tiny in his, only a little bigger than his palm.  He loved the feel of them, the delicacy of her smooth skin and the tiny bones beneath.  She led him slowly to the bed, walking backwards to keep her eyes locked with his.  She let him sit down on the bed and then she took her hands from his saying, "You have had such an arduous day, Strategos. You must let me take care of you."  He felt a tickle of anxiety tremble within his stomach and he took hold of her forearms before she could move away.

        "That is not necessary, Sitiah." He tried to study her expression seriously, but found her eyes twinkled with thoughts that she simply wouldn't reveal.

        "But it is. You have done something tremendous for me this day! And I must repay you." She smiled slipping her arms from his grasp.  She slowly put her hands on his chest near his shoulders.  He could feel the light shaking of her hands on his chest and he stared at her.  He could see the uncertainty she tried to hide and the request of permission in her eyes.  He was about to speak when she stepped closer to him, carefully undoing the first silver button of his overcoat.  He could say nothing as she made her way down the row of buttons.  He made no move to stop her when she pushed at the leather over his shoulders and stripped him of the coat with quick and smooth movements.  Letting it fall to the bed behind him she licked her lips focusing on his shirt.  The shirt beneath was a dark blue with a dragon sewn above the hem at the bottom.  She traced the dragon with her fingers murmuring softly in Egyptian.  "You did defeat a dragon." She looked up at him in quiet awe.

        He nodded with a weary sigh, "Yes. I'm afraid I did. My brother didn't care for the action at the time, for a long time he would not forgive me."  The sadness of the memory shown clearly on his face as he frowned, his eyebrows drawing inward. 

        "Your brother…" Sitiah smiled secretively.  _Brother of Strategos, Van, the prince in Isa's visions. He is the one that could be so easily mistaken for a tribesman. Hmm… He is handsome. He looks so unlike his brother, and yet they both have fiery eyes_.  "I have never seen a dragon. But I have heard they are fierce creatures." She remarked.

        "They are. But they are also very noble as well… When Van was younger they fascinated him. He would sit for hours studying their pictures in books, and drawing them on his own. In Fanelia he is known as the Dragon Prince." He spoke in a distant voice, seeing far away.  She watched him carefully than reached up and turned his head towards her.

       "Do you miss it? Your country?" She asked softly.

   He shrugged with a smile, "Fanelia will always be my homeland. But I enjoy the east. It is unlike my country in so many ways. I love the exotic of the places I conquer."  He took her hand from his face to hold it in his own.  The solace he felt was different than what he was used to, but it made him ache for more of it.

        Sitiah pulled her hand away slowly to rest it on his arm.  Her hand slide beneath the sleeve to feel the flesh of his powerful forearm.  "Egypt is all her own. She has a spice that is unlike any other that has touched your tongue." She told him her eyes glowing with a seducing passion.  She let her hands wander over the cloth up his arm, and down his chest to the hem.  Her fingertips swept beneath the hem, as her thumbs took hold of the blue fabric.  She slowly ran her hands upward against the muscles of his chest bringing the shirt with.  He quivered at the intimate touch and his breath came faster, but his eyes did not look away from hers.  Raising his arms the shirt lifted over his head hiding the amber of her eyes.  The shirt was tossed aside from her hands and she stood searching his face.  He wasn't sure what emotion registered on his face, for she smiled at it and closed her eyes for a moment.  When she looked back at him a blush graced her sculpted cheeks.  He frowned wondering what she had seen.  She closed off her emotions from him, sinking to her knees.  Sitting back on her calves she began to undo the laces of his boots, not bothering to glance up to see his puzzled expression.  He gazed down at her his own cheeks reddening with discouragement.  She was a mystery.  Some sort of sorcereress she was, able to blind him with her magic, and shroud all her secrets.  Was it all a game to her?  Had he, Strategos, finally met his equal?

         The queen surprised him again when she stated in a temperate voice, "You spoke with my sister today."

         His frown deepened, the aura that had distracted him, broken quite suddenly.  "I saw Arsinoe today. She was at the banquet." He said.

         "Yes," Sitiah replied tonelessly, "I saw her. She glared at me the whole time… She went to you today, did she not?"  She did not dare lift her eyes to meet his, knowing the frustration that would be in them.

         "I held an audience with her if that's what you mean." He said coldly.  She pulled the first boot off lightly and set it aside.

          After a minute or so she asked meekly, "What- did she want?"

          "What do you **_think_** she wanted, Sitiah?" Folken's eyes narrowed.  She felt the bite of his words and her head came up as the boot fell from his foot.

          She did her best to not show the anxiety that had rooted in her, struggling to seem indifferent.  She was quaking inside, as she jumped from one conclusion to another.  They were both politicians suddenly, forcing themselves to forget any intimacy between them.  The air was taut like a rope, the tension strung tight as they each gripped at opposite ends.  Her voice strained she demanded, "And-did-you-give her what she wanted?"  Her eyes were wide and glossy, the fear sparking in them as well as the strength she held to.

         "Like you said, the people love her. They want her to be their queen." He replied his lips frozen into a straight line.  He watched as she sucked in a breath that caused her to clench her fists and drop her eyes to the floor.

_          Why does he taunt me? Why does he act so smug? He knows he has my life in his hands! He knows it! I am nothing without his say! Damn it! How could my father leave me in dept to Fanelia? How could he leave me with so little power over my own rights?_  A deep resentment built behind her eyes along with the tears, her stomach lurched and she wanted to tear at her hair, and then leap upon the man, and claw at his face.  Feeling so uncontrolled she clutched at Strategos' left leg hugging it to her chest as she laid her cheek against the leather pants.

          "Tell me what I am then! Just tell me! Don't toy with me any longer Strategos, I beg you!" She cried squeezing tighter as the muscle tensed. 

           "Stop it, Sitiah. You are a queen now. Queens don't grovel at men's feet." He told her quietly, feeling his irritation draining.  His whole body felt weak, his shoulders slumping, and his arms hanging limply at his sides.  He listened as her breathing slowed and her grip loosened.  Sitiah swallowed and blinked back the tears in silent astonishment.  She rose to her feet too put both her hands on his face.  She stood in between his legs and leaned down slightly to stare him straight in the eyes. 

           "I'm your ally. Now and forever, Great Strategos." She whispered to him her smile wide and generous.  Sitiah kissed his cheek quickly than burned a trail of kisses all across his face with the same emphatic happiness.  With the last kiss she pulled away to look at his expression.  She found it one of surprise and she grinned again.  "Sleep now, Folken. I'll be here when you wake." With that she pressed her lips to his, and gently pushed him down onto the bed.  She smiled down at him, seeing the pleasure in his heavy-lidded eyes.  Caressing the flesh of his cheeks with the back of her hand she said, "Rest, I will come back."  Slowly she backed up away from him.  His reflexes would always be too quick for her and he held to her wrist.

          "Where are you going?" He asked in confusion.

           She looked up at Isadora as the door creaked open and the priestess stepped through looking apologetically at her queen.  Smiling at her Sitiah replied, "To pray. I must thank Isis for her blessings. I will return before the moon reaches its height."  Her gaze fluttered back down to the man who seemed to have fallen to her influence.  She could do whatever she wanted to him as he slowly drifted to sleep upon her bed.  She knew very well that he trusted her.  But she also knew that he was no fool, even if he did slumber on her bed, he was perfectly aware of everything around him.  He released her wrist and she moved away as he closed his eyes.  Glancing once at the wary girl on the other side of the bed she turned and glided away from it.  Isadora followed her no questions asked, trying to ignore the still figure on her mistress's couch.

           She prepared the shrine as always, opening the golden doors to reveal the lapis lazuli statue of the goddess, and lighting the candles and incense.  Isadora murmured her prayers as she did each thing, feeling a tranquility cleansing her with a breath of myrrh and a sigh like the sea.  Her heart overflowed with the honor of her duties as priestess as the smoke curls twisted around the shrine and flowed over her body.  Her chiton was pure and white, and she wore no adornment but for the gold earrings that swung from her ears.  She picked up a stick of incense and went to where the queen stood somberly awaiting her time to pray.  Isa waved the incense around her sending the whiffs of the fragrance to touch the woman with its purity.  She whispered the prayers in Greek, and then Egyptian knowing Sitiah's love for both.  Standing before the queen Isadora bowed and backed away to sit on a pallet in the corner while her mistress approached the shrine.

                    The girl lay quietly sleeping beside him.  He watched her naked shoulders rise and fall with her breathing.  Her breasts swelled beneath the blanket and he traced a wavering line on the flesh just above them with one finger.  She squirmed slightly under the heated touch, but did not wake.  He smirked and pulled the cover away as he got up from the bed, leaving the whore with only a thin sheet to cover her nude body.  She shivered curling into a ball muttering with her eyes closed, "It's too cold."  He snickered as he wrapped the blanket around his bare waist and slipped on a pair of sandals. 

            He lazily wandered out of his chambers and into the main hall where most of his men were sprawled in a drunken slumber.  They lay amongst pillows and couches, colored by the bright veils of the dancers' that had been flung upon their arms, heads, legs, and chests.  Empty cups of gold, glittering with their gemmed sides were scattered everywhere as well as pitchers catching the early morning light.  The shine of the wealth of the dinnerware reflected and danced onto the stucco walls.  Wine still scented the room with its strong odor, mingled with the perfume of the women, sweat of the men, and the smells of the food crushed or forgotten on the floor and tables.  The general gave a proud smile, spotting Miguel with his arm around the waist of a semi-nude dancer, and his other hand gripped around the hilt of a sword.  He chuckled as the soldier growled in his sleep, slashing at the air with his blade.  Miguel grunted and brought his sword down again to rest in his hand by his thigh. 

           With a roll of his eyes the general moved on through the corridor, the pillars on his right separating him from the remnants of the feast.  The long windows to his left brought in Aurora's cleansing breath.  He barely noticed as it whispered across his pale chest, hardening the pink nipples.  He stopped to look out at the valley and down into the surrounding city.  The cooking fires of merchants and farmers were heated, and the smoke could be seen against the tree line near the palace wall, several yards out. 

           Vermilion eyes narrowing at the sight of a stir in the court yard off to the right he hissed, "Damn-good-for-nothing guards. Can't ever keep it quiet around here."  He blew a lock of snowy hair from his eyes and turned to head back to his room.  He heard the footsteps pounding up the staircase and abruptly turned to see Viole turn into the passage.  Panting the man held a scroll in his hand and stopped to bow to his commander at the other end of the corridor.  Grinning Dilandau questioned mockingly, "And what news have we today? Has Strategos unfortunately perished at the hands of the mob in Alexandria?"

          "No, sir. He has named Sitiah and her brother, Ptolemy, rulers in Egypt." Viole shook his head as he walked toward Dilandau, extending the scroll to him.  Dilandau snorted as he snatched the scroll away and muttered to himself.  The soldier waited as Dilandau skimmed over the scroll with his carnelian eyes.

          Tossing it aside Dilandau rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, so they're the rulers! What about the important matters?"  He turned away stalking towards his room once more.  Viole obediently followed, after pausing to gather up the scroll.

          "Well, as for success, we've had none. But the mob in Alexandria is still grumbling. They have their king, but not their chosen queen." Viole reported as Dilandau sank into a chair.  The general made a little grunt then waved the young man on absently.  "But rumor has it sir, that Ptolemy's administration is still planning. They were in an uproar when they found out Sitiah would be queen. But they seemed settled at the banquet. Still, my sources are certain that things are hardly at an end." He relaxed his stance, clasping his hands behind his back, and spread his feet shoulder-width apart.

          "Right." Dilandau replied staring past his soldier at some unseen thought.  He was fully aware of Viole, hearing every word, but still his mind was flying past the messages being spoken.  Scheming was the only way to describe his thought process, for when it came to this red-eyed youth, there was always a battle to be fought.  He blinked as though just realizing his man stood before him, "Did you say Sitiah? Sitiah is queen? Who the hell is she?"

Author's Note:

Okay, you may be wondering why I ended there, and I do have an explanation.  Ch. 8 was getting kind of long, so I decided to divide it into two parts.  So next update is a continuation of Ch. 8. Sorry about taking so long to update. I've been so stressed. Well, I did my best for ya'll so I hope you like it!       


	10. Battle Plan

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Part 2 of Ch. 8

                    "Eset!"

          Sitiah's eyes flew open, her heart ready to leap from her chest.  Again the link between her Prophetess and her was undeniably proven.  Both of their voices had cried out within the dream world, both knew the urgency that jolted them awake.  She knew Isadora had felt the same in sleep as she had.  Still she would not allow herself to move.  She lay stiff in Strategos light embrace.  She could hear her heart's throbbing beats in her ears, her cheek pressed against his chest.  The rise and fall of his chest gave her only the slightest comfort as she lie waiting in the dark. 

_Hurry, Isa! Tell me what this panic means! Please, my friend, hurry!_  The queen cried anxiously in her mind.  She was no longer warm against the strong body though it pulsed with life next to her.  Strategos arm wrapped around her waist pulled her against his side, but it could not expel the chill that sliced away inside her.  She closed her eyes willing her nerves to calm.  When she opened them again she knew Isadora was there, beside her. 

Her whole body trembled with the ferocity of her vision, she whispered in the queen's ear, "Ar-Arsin-Arsinoe and Pto-Ptolemy- gone. Strat-Strategos- outnumbered. Fight- Alexandria- must stop- them- from Pelusium."  Though the servant's voice wavered, Sitiah knew the message.  She was suddenly shaking too.  She said nothing, not moving her head from Folken's chest, nor removing her arm from his middle.  All at once the feelings of dread, anger, hurt, and fear balled inside her, making her want to cry out in pain.  But the queen did not move, she waited as her Prophetess did, for the confirmation she did not need.  Miles' sturdy form slipped in through the crack in the door without a sound casting a hazy shadow on the floor outside the chamber.  The door closed behind him, leaving only darkness behind. 

"Hitomi." Miles voice was hushed, and yet it impacted the queen's ears as if it had been shouted.

The next moment Isadora was murmuring in a toneless voice, "They're gone."  A thousand different emotions flooded Sitiah at once but she only stared into space; like the body of one dead.  Miles gently took Isadora into his arms, cradling her with ease.  She was limp in his arms, sapped of all energy.  She wanted so badly to stay awake to comfort her queen, but the ache was too intense.  She fell into sleep like a heavy weight, though she was barely a burden in Miles' capable arms.  The young man needed no order, for he had in his mind what he was to do.  He went back through the doorway just as an Asturian man shoved past him into the room.

"Forgive me, Lord Strategos," Allen went down on one knee.  He got up nearly losing his balance.  "Arsinoe and Ptolemy have fled the palace, sir." He took deep breaths to steady his voice.  Strategos was already stirring, propping himself up with his hands.  The queen's head fell against the pillow and she lay silent at the alarm.

"Try to head them off," He gave no sign of his weariness, "Engage them if you have to, but don't lose too many men over it. They'll march on Alexandria, you can be sure of that."  Strategos tied a sheet around his waist and jumped out of the bed.  "Get my officers ready in the main hall. Make sure all guards are on full alert." He commanded, standing in front of Allen.

"Yes, sir." Allen bowed his head and was off, a gaggle of servants taking his place.  Three men set about to light the lamps, quickly filling the room with light.  The queen's handmaidens fussed about her, babbling in swift Egyptian.  Sitiah waved them away in preoccupation, and snapped her fingers at the men lighting the lamps.  When the cluster had gone she got down from the bed to watch as Strategos hurriedly threw on his blue shirt.

After buckling his sword on he turned to look at her, "You're not safe here. I'll assign a dozen guards to hide and protect you, while I hold council with my staff-"

She ignored the business-like tone he used and shook her head.  "No, this is my fight. I will meet with my men for this." The queen stated calmly.

Strategos went toward her, and took her shoulders.  Staring down at her he said firmly, "Don't you dare try leaving me out of this. Alexandria is one of my greatest investments, I will not stand by and watch it fall to a weak boy."  He saw the fire spark in her eyes and smiled.  He knew that his smile angered her even more, but he could not help it.  Gently he coaxed, "Your Majesty, I must protect the city whose queen has captured my heart. This is my home as much as it is yours, now. Let me win this struggle for you."  Sitiah knew very well that Strategos was using pretty words to sway her from arguing.  She was well aware of his intention to leave her out of the planning, but she would not be tricked into letting him control all aspects of the coming battle.

She smiled sweetly, though her eyes were like ice staring into him, "My lord, I am your humble servant, but what kind of servant would I be if I did not fight at my lord's side?"  Instantly Strategos calculated his mistake.  He had treated her like a bystander, condescendingly telling her she would have no part in his strategizing.  The look in her eyes would become very familiar to him as the years passed.  That look of obstinate determination would never fail to arouse his true feelings for her.

Finally he said patiently, "Let us have a private meeting about this when it is more light out. Get some sleep-"  He was trying to work his way around her again, but to his dismay she would not have it.

"I will go with Strategos now to the throne room, to speak of the recent matters of urgency." She insisted her hands balling into fists.  "I need no more than a moment to prepare myself." She raised her chin slightly to emphasize her words.  Sitiah would be a queen in her own palace whether Strategos wanted to give her that power or not.  She had to establish herself as sole ruler, to demonstrate to everyone that it was she who had conquered Alexandria, and not Strategos.

                    Isadora knew Hypnos was begging her to shut her heavy eyes, as he sang his lullabies and bribed her with reflections of blissful abandon.  She refused his thoughtful offer, with a light shake of her head against her chartreuse pillow.  The incense burned down slowly upon the alter, filling her nostrils with its heady fragrance.  She watched the smoke dance seductively above her, swaying to and fro towards the unseen ceiling.  Her body screamed for rest, for the rejuvenating strength that sleep brought.  But her mind was too keenly aware of furtive images and musings. 

_My lady knew Arsinoe was a threat, but still she wanted to believe that her younger sister wouldn't turn away from her… All Ptolemies forget their blood relations. In the end it's just a bid for power. Sitiah has known her family's bloody history. She was just a girl when Berenice turned against their father for the throne. And she was there at her execution; she sat right by her father's side. Only when we were alone together did she cry and tell me how she hated both of them for not getting along the way a father and daughter should… Still she hates the rivalry between her and her siblings. She has only one Ptolemy left on her side, and he is only a boy, younger than Ptolemy the XIII… What will it be like between her and her half-brother? Will she have to go through another battle with him?_ 

She had no time to wonder about the relationship between the two, for a vision struck without warning.  "Alexandria is surrounded!" She cried out into the gloom.

The tile was cold against her bare feet, but she barely felt the sting as she sprinted down the long corridor toward the audience hall.  She had no time to worry about how inappropriately she was dressed to go bursting into a room full of men.  The gold thread that trimmed the bell sleeves, the v-neckline, and the hem of the dress, seemed quite suddenly heavy.  She completely ignored the fact that she was in a bed gown, of saffron organdy, that clung to her as she ran onward. 

Chaos had taken over inside her, so that she could hardly remember what it was she ran for.  She saw flashings of white around her, the columns, walls, and statues all blurring together, as she rushed past.  Blinded to everything she did not the see the shock upon the prince's face when he exited his room to look up and spot her.  He stepped in her way, making himself a barrier.  He could tell that she was upset, and even sense the confusion driving her.  He braced himself for the impact, knowing that he was no more than a wall to her.  She collided with him, crashing into his solid body as though it were blockade of pillows.  She felt softness within his arms, allowing him to catch her in a tight embrace.  Sinking into him she whispered, "My prince."

He held to the fragile body that had bombarded him with smooth skin, an athlete's muscles, and the fragrance of lilies.  "Hitomi," He cupped one hand against sandy hair.  She collapsed against him, and without a thought he swept her into his arms.  Her head fell onto his shoulder, her face nuzzled against his neck.  "Tell Strategos, I will be with him after I have settled the queen's handmaiden." He ordered his two guards as he kicked the doors to his room open.  Inside he laid her frail body upon his bed with the utmost care.  Pushing aside the stray locks of hair he whispered to her, "Hitomi. Hitomi, can you hear me?"  He waited, hoping her inaudible breathing would not cease.

"My-my lady…" She murmured, her eyes closed.

"I will meet her soon. Tell me what it is you want to say to her. I'll deliver the message." Van spoke gently glancing once at the guard just outside the doors.

          It took great effort for her to whisper out the words, but finally she said, "Surrounded- the city- the- city is surrounded. Achilles…" 

Hypnos overcame her, his voice like some sort of drug taking her deep within the darkness.  The prince stayed silent by her side until he was sure she slept steadily. 

He gazed at the serene features tenderly, finding them heartbreakingly beautiful.  Her body beneath the thin material could be seen pressed against the yellow.  The sight of her naked skin like the purity of fresh milk caused him swallow hard as he let his eyes rove over her.  His conscience spoke to him about how wrong it was to do so, but he could not tear his eyes away.  She had the body of girl, with long slender limbs, but was blessed with breasts like ripe peaches in size.  The pink of her nipples was bright against all the creamy flesh.  The curve of her hips was subtle and smooth.  A tiny triangle of strawberry blonde down showed her sex distinctly, below the flat belly.  He'd never seen a woman so vulnerable before, so fresh in her womanhood. 

Of course there were women at the palace, the Empress' handmaidens and ladies, who did their best to catch his eye.  They'd be sure to always be serving him when it came to the warm days when he'd invite his men to swim in his private lake.  They'd undress in front of him, at the other men's invitations, and splash about trying to bait him.  But he despised them and their behavior, ignoring any who tried to grab his attention.  When they became too forceful, he became so embarrassed that he'd humiliate them by ordering them away in a reddened rage. 

He shook the thoughts away to focus again on the sleeping girl.  She wasn't like every other girl.  This woman was so alien compared to them.  Being near her did not confuse him as it did when he was with other females.  There was no way he could categorize her, with the bright green eyes, the long hair, and pale face.  She stunned him with her presence.  The feeling of having known her when he was young threatened to overwhelm him, he just wasn't quite sure why.  He frowned looking away from her guiltily.  Van silently cursed himself for gawking and hesitantly made his way away from the bed. 

As he turned to the doors shutting them quietly, he said, "Make sure she is not disturbed. I want this chamber watched at every moment. If there is any stir from within the room, I want to be informed immediately."  He held his guards' gazes with a demanding scowl.  Turning away from them as they nodded in agreement he hissed, "Damn!"

"Arsinoe ordered the guard to get out of her way and took a chariot. I didn't see Ptolemy." Merle was saying as the prince entered.  She was clearly annoyed, her eyes narrow and her tail bristling.  Standing in front of Strategos with her hands folded across her chest she growled lowly, "I knew that brat was up to no good. The arrogant bitch was too shady."

"Of course," Sitiah spoke smoothly from her throne, "Sweet as honey one moment, then the next ready to sting."  Her eyes had turned to a dark brown with little icy crystal of citrine sparkling around the edges.  Her robe was a plain blue, with long bell sleeves, flowing with every breeze.  She sat stiffly looking moody, and yet completely comfortable with her arms resting on the high sides of gold.  Van was taken aback for a moment, struck by her exotic beauty, as he had been when she'd appeared from her clever hiding spot.  The black hair streaming over her shoulders caught the torches' fiery light and seemed to glow like an ebony surface engulfed in flames. 

It was Allen who spoke breaking his trance, "The army is proclaiming her queen, Alexandria as well. She took one of the cobra coronets with her. She's crowned herself."

Van's mind was set on the task at hand once again and he said, "The city is surrounded. Her army outnumbers ours."  Meanwhile Folken had said not a word.  He'd set down in a chair by the table listening quietly, his face registering none of his thoughts. 

_Strategos will have a plan. He has one now, I can see it._  Van studied his brother's face seriously.

"Even if their force has more numbers than ours, we still have the advantage," Sitiah's voice came strong and sure, her accent impassioning each word.  She got to her feet her eyes gleaming so brightly Van could've sworn he'd seen the sun within them.  Holding her head high she smiled cryptically, "Open the gates and they will find their doom inside. Besides, we have one weapon she does not. We have the greatest military tactician the world has ever seen! We have, Folken Strategos, the emperor of the world." 

The queen had made her way down from the dais, across the floor to stand opposite Strategos at the end of the table.  Her gaze did not falter as she stared down the length of the table at him.  They had locked eyes in the silence that had settled, something passing between them that no one could translate.  Time stood still where they were, no one moved, no one breathed, and nothing mattered.  Strategos made a promise to her then rose to his feet.  Sitiah watched him, her heart pounding steadily, with the confidence that this man of Fanelia would keep her safe.  The faith in her eyes stirred him and he looked out to study the faces around him.

Finally he said, his voice gripping everyone, "We fight to secure Alexandria. And we will win! The gods have ordained it! Fortune is in our favor!"  His men were roused, finding themselves empowered by their superior's valiant words.  Shouts burst throughout the chamber to cheer Strategos.  The queen slipped away unnoticed, her love's laughter in her ears.

Author's Note:

And so the war begins. Brother and sister vs. sister. Sitiah will have to find a way to keep her city intact, being that Alexandria is the battlefield and the prize.  Quick ? for ya: Is there any confusion about the severity of Hitomi's visions? Anything that you don't understand period?

Okay so that was two questions, but I really don't want to lose anybody. So if you have questions feel free to email me or just write them in a review.  Email: ArsinoeIXaol.com  

Comments or suggestions? Has the writing style changed? Have the characters stayed the same? Do you see them in a different light?  Whatever you wanna bring up to me is dandy! Your support has been so very inspiring! I honestly love it! I hope I never let any of you down! Love, Luck, and Lollipops, everyone!

Hypnos is the Greek god of sleep.         


	11. Caged in White

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    "Stop it! You're making me anxious!" The queen ordered drumming her nails on her desk.

"But I'm not doing anything!" Isadora protested.  She stood before the desk her hands folded together and resting against her upper thighs.

"Yes you are!" Sitiah insisted with a frown gesturing with one slim finger, "You were knotting up your dress!"

"I was not!" The handmaiden shot back.  Unconsciously she had bunched up some of the fabric and began twisting it in her nervous hands.

"Then what are you doing now?" Sitiah got to her feet pointing at the girl.

"Nothing!" Isadora threw up her hands in exasperation.  She immediately went back to worrying her dress.

"Yes you are!"

"You are mad! I'm only standing here!"

Sitiah let out a big sigh looking up at the ceiling a moment only to look back at her friend.  "You stop that or I'll order you out!" She demanded.

"No way! You won't order me out! You've never ordered me out when you're angry! Besides how can I stop, when I'm not doing anything?" The Prophetess snorted wringing her dress even more.

Sitiah growled and stormed towards her.  Taking her maid's forearms she forced them to her sides clenching her teeth, "Yes…you…are!"  Isadora struggled to get away, but her queen had always been stronger than her.  "Stop!" Sitiah demanded.  Suddenly Isadora stopped and gasped looking horrified.

          "My queen, there is smoke! It is in the direction of the docks!" She spoke in a rush, the argument forgotten.  Sitiah turned her head to look in the direction of the balcony.  Her eyes widened and she let the girl go and whirled around to stare.  Isadora went to her side, her mouth falling open.  She could suddenly hear her friend breathing in and out deeply.  Sitiah let out an anguished cry and sped out onto the balcony.  Gripping the edge of the stone rail she surveyed her city.  The smoke poured out from several areas near the harbor where Strategos had set several ships on fire to keep the enemies from obtaining them.  One of the storehouses had flared up, and its sparks spread to others along the waterfront.

"The grain!" Sitiah groaned her hands tightening on the edge of the rail so that the rock pressed painfully against her palms.  Her eyes flitted around to catch glimpses of the chaos in the streets.  She felt her heart being clenched in her chest, as her eyes watered with the drifting smoke and fearful tears.  She tried to swallow, but there seemed to be something blocking the way, and she blinked furiously to keep any drops from spilling over her eyes. 

All around was the clamor of battle, the shouts of fighting men, and the moans of the dying.  The whole city was shaking with the clangs of steel against steel, the screams of the petrified citizens, and the roar of war.  It all mashed together into a horrendous symphony, rising and falling with every second.  Blood and ash rose on the wind soaking the city with an awful stench. 

The queen felt her body become cold, her mind start to pound furiously, and her limbs begin to tremble.  Her hands flew to cup around her mouth strangling a pitiful scream.  She closed her eyes refusing to allow the tears to overtake her.  When she opened them she recognized her library, and almost began to choke as she realized smoke billowed from its doors.  "No!" She screeched in rage and agony.  Isadora flinched at the desperate sound so full of utter grief.  She began to cry as she peered out across her home.  "We have to try- I… We must get closer!" Sitiah looked at her handmaiden suddenly.

Isa was startled by the pleading look in her queen's eyes.  She knew the library was as dear to her mistress as all of the land in Egypt.  The storehouses contained important documents as well.  She felt an ache within herself that struck her with sorrow.  Slowly she nodded meeting Sitiah's eyes.  Hastily wiping away the tears she sniffed and kept nodding, "Yes, I'll go with you."  The brave smile that her friend graced upon her threatened to force her into tears again, but she managed to smile back.  She took Sitiah's hand in hers and said, her voice shaky, but clear, "Let's go." 

They raced out together, running as though they were being chased.  Neither cried, nor did they glance about, but kept their gaze ahead of themselves.  Finally after sprinting through the entire palace, they were stopped by Fanelian guards at the gate. 

"Find my guards, tell them they must get to the library and the storehouses to put out the fire! Step aside!" Sitiah commanded in a hurry.  The guards seemed prepared for such an encounter for they stared out over her head.

One of them said, "Forgive me, your highness, but we have orders to let no one out of the palace."

Sitiah stood shocked; she had never been so openly defied before.  She couldn't believe anyone would dare.  But then again these were Folken's men, trained to follow his commands and no one else's.  Still she felt as though the soldier had slapped her in the face, and she was clearly offended.

"Orders? I don't take orders! This is my palace. I make the orders! And I am telling you to stand aside!" She glared at the young man.  Even then he did not look at the woman but seemed to ignore her.

"Whether or not you take orders is not my concern. I do however, and you are not allowed to pass through these gates." He replied with a simple shrug of his broad shoulders.  The impudence in his voice had been too recognizable, for the queen was again insulted.  She would not stand to be insulted twice.

She let out a fierce growl striking his cheek with her hand, her fingers curled like claws.  Her nails tore at his flesh, tearing strips of skin from his cheek.  He growled in pain dropping his spear as he put his hands to the wound. 

"Whore!" He swore at her scowling darkly as blood slowly began to appear between his fingers.  At this Sitiah felt all restraint suddenly shatter within her.  She was flying at him within the next few moments; hissing and clawing at him like a desert lioness.  The man knew that to strike her would be a grave mistake, and so raised his arms in front of his face as his only defense.  Isadora tried her best to pry her off of the man tugging at her arms, and then wrapping her arms around the woman's waist and pulling.  But the queen was blind to everything, and she dug at any exposed flesh trying to grab at his neck. 

_Alexandria is being desecrated, and this man dares…_ _If only you were Ptolemy or Arsinoe!_   In her desperation her face had taken on a bronze and red sheen. She tore the red cloak from his armor.  Another soldier put his arms about her and drug her away.  Still she was screaming and cursing in Egyptian as Allen Schezar picked her up despite her flailing.

"I'm sorry your majesty, forgive me, but I have been ordered to keep you safe." Allen said trying to avoid her wild swings.  He was struck several times, but kept his grip tight and continued to walk hurriedly into the palace.  Her attacks were becoming weak, sluggish as she wriggled in his arms.

Feeling more helpless than she had ever before, she cried, "Let go! I am the queen here! This is **_my_** city!" 

Isadora teary eyed watched, trying to keep pace with the tall knight.  Never had she felt more useless.  While her queen fought to be able to help her enflamed city, she could do nothing but stay by her side in painful silence.  Sitiah had lost her energy to fight it seemed, and she was reduced to exasperated grunts. 

"My home-is-is-burning! As queen- I am obligated to-to save her! Setesh take you-you damn coward! Set me down!"  She had twisted in his arms and was grasping at the cloth at the man's shoulders.  When she ripped threw it and used her nails to stab into the flesh around his collarbone, Allen did not even flinch as he carried her along.  He halted only when a man in the attire of a Greek turned to them from a cluster of arguing Fanelian guards and Egyptian soldiers.  The man's eyes grew large as he took in the captain of the guard and his charge.

"My queen!" He gasped scurrying towards Allen.  Recognizing the voice immediately the queen stared at him, her demands stopping for a moment.

"Gods! Olympus!" She reached out to him as he came to stand right in front of her.  He caught her up smoothly, embracing her as he tried hard to keep himself from crying.

"My queen," He repeated closing his eyes as he cradled her head in his hand.  She gripped his shoulders furiously forcing him to look at her.  "Praise the gods that you are safe!" He whispered pushing away a curl of her hair.

"Olympus!" She said astonished, drew him close to hug him again.  Her voice was suddenly muffled as she clung to him, and he could feel her heart quivering within her breast pressed against his own.  She was greatly pleased to see her friend home again.  But her joy in seeing his familiar face was wiped away as she realized that all around her was mass destruction.  She hurriedly pushed away to look into the man's eyes. "Alexandria-the waterfront is burning! There are homes- and the library- all burning." She sputtered. 

Olympus could not speak, still overwhelmed by the sight of his childhood companion.  In an instant he could see that something had changed within her.  She was not the young woman who he had feared for when she was rolled into a rug at his protests.  This woman was truly a queen, her eyes intense with an all-consuming determination to save her home.  Swallowing hard Olympus studied her face with a frown.  He suddenly looked at Isadora for confirmation. The handmaiden nodded, her lips trembling.  He was saddened by her tear-streaked face and closed his eyes.

"My queen, the city is not lost! Great Strategos has taken the lighthouse on the Pharos. Do not cry my dear friend, Alexandria will not fall." He assured her, a seriousness hardening his features.  Isadora allowed a little breath of relief to blow from her lips as she watched the two.

"Excuse me, but I must know who you are." Allen insisted quietly his hand precariously hovering over the hilt of his sword.  Olympus nodded in understanding, turning toward the man with a suspicious arrogance.

"I am the queen's physician, her friend since birth. Please, allow me to take her highness to her quarters." He said in his controlled voice.  Allen narrowed his eyes as he studied the man's face.

But before he could offer a word Sitiah said, "No. I do not wish to be escorted back to my chambers! I want to go to where the fires have started."

Allen's eyes flashed with annoyance, "Your majesty, you know I cannot allow you to do that. I was given specific orders by the Emperor himself to not leave-"

"Yes, yes, Commander Schezar, I know your orders." Sitiah put in impatiently, looking just as agitated as he, "Well, I shall make it easy for you, since you seem to be too ignorant to realize whom you speak to. I will go to the palace shrine to pray instead."  

Allen realizing that he would get nowhere by debating with the woman, sighed, "Give me but a couple minutes to confer with my officers."  With that he started to cross the floor.

The queen stopped him in his tracks stating, "My city is being destroyed with every passing second. I did not win the title to be queen over a dead piece of dirt, Commander. I will not be denied the right to at least pray for my people."  She was staring at him as though she could see to the core of his soul.  Her words were as chilling as the shadowy glare.  Hesitantly Allen turned away from her and walked on towards the group of frozen soldiers.  Olympus watched him go out of the corner of his eye then looked eagerly at Isadora's face.

"What is going on here? Who is that man?" He asked in a whisper.

"He is Strategos' second in command of the navy, Allen Schezar… Arsinoe has deserted, Ptolemy is with her, they have brought the troops from Pelusium and lay siege to the city, that much you must know." The priestess replied in a low voice.  She was surprised at her calm tone, and thanked the gods for it silently.  Olympus winced, taking a sharp breath in between his teeth.

"Shouldn't he be in battle then?" He scowled.

"Strategos ordered him to stay, I guess he's the only man the emperor trusts to keep our queen safe. His brother is needed in the fight." Isadora sighed.

Olympus immediately understood what had happened since his queen had made it into the palace.  He was well aware of the charm that attracted so many to her.  They'd become friends over the years and he knew her as well as her own nursemaid might, perhaps better.  It was apparent that Sitiah had cunningly worked her way into Strategos' affections.  He sighed to himself, not sure whether this was a dangerous match, or a lucky advantage.  The man set his mind again, deciding to approach the queen about it at a more appropriate time.

"Whatever the commander decides…we must take her there." Olympus urged.

"Setesh! I will take myself! I don't require any ones help or permission." Sitiah said through clenched teeth.  Both the physician and the priestess exchanged looks.  They knew Sitiah well enough to know that she did not threaten unless it was a last resort.  She would fight as many men as she had to make her way into the palace's temple to Isis.

                    Merle quickly notched another arrow drawing her bow with graceful ease, though she was trembling with horror inside.  However her aim was as steady as ever and she betrayed no sign of the hysteria she felt quaking within her stomach.  She loosed the arrow and watched as it hit its target directly in the chest, ripping through the weak armor to bury its head into the flesh and organs.  She let out a wavering sigh as she paused in her routine to wipe the sweat from her forehead.  She never experienced such heat in battle. 

Though Alexandria was breezed by the breaths of the sea, it did nothing to lessen the heat of the sun.  The air was stale with the smell of battle, a scent that made even Merle's accustomed nose turn up as the wind reached to her height atop the roof of the temple of Apollo.  The young woman had seen many battles before, but the stench of the capitol with its blood soaked streets, rotting corpses, and burning flesh, was almost overwhelming.  Still the girl ignored it and pulled another arrow from the quiver at her feet, aimed, and let it fly with the urgency that comes with battle.  Again she had a direct hit.  She was readying another arrow when she heard her name being called from below.  She recognized the Prince in his armor waving at her with a bloodied sword.

"Merle! Have you heard from Folken?" He yelled shading his eyes with one hand soiled with blood and dirt.

"Lord Prince! I'm glad to see you alive!" She smiled waving both hands over her head.  Inwardly she was praising the gods for his safety, though she could only offer him a friendly approval.  She had been taught to be very focused when it came to war.  There was never time to fret over the other combat taking place around you when there was a city at stake.

Van's laughter was carried up to her as he put his hand on his upper sword arm, "Yes, I escaped death with a couple scrapes and bruises."  His white teeth gleamed in the light as he grinned in his boyish way.  "But what of my brother?" He questioned again.

"The messenger could not find you, your highness. You shouldn't have taken off without letting anyone know! But the message was sent to me. Your brother is well, his command has taken the Pharos." Merle shook her head tossing the pink braid from left to right.  She looked at the other archers positioned to both sides of her.  "Shall we move?" She asked.  Van frowned down at the ground for a moment wondering whether he out to involve Merle's contingent.  He shook himself and raised his head.

"Alright then, this section is clear, send part of the men to the water front to put out the fires there and get rid of any stragglers from the enemy army. I'm taking my men to back up Setepenre's forces, follow me with what's left of your group." Van ordered, and then mumbled to himself, "My brother's probably so deep in this mess, I'll be lucky if I hear from him before sunset." 

Merle gave a curt nod shouldering her quiver of arrows.  Quickly she restated the orders, putting a ranking officer in charge of one division to head to the waterfront with their assignment and commanding the others to follow her.  Both groups made their way off the roof of the temple, then split in two to carry out their specific duties. 

The girl fell into step beside Van who was striding with purpose over the debris and clutter.  She was reminded of the Prince's steadfast courage as she glanced at him trying to keep up with his manly pace.  His face was stern with calculation, but she could see the desire to join in where he could.  She smiled at this wondering about how different Van was from Folken, and yet how very alike the two seemed in battle.

                                              Historical Note:

Much of the history of Alexandria was lost in the fire that ravaged the library.  The library was said to contain every written work known to that part of the world.  Unfortunately that meant that a lot was irreplaceable.  Documents only found in that city were destroyed, and sadly lost to the people.  Archaeologists believe that much of history cannot be known due to the fact that the Alexandrian Library met with such a disaster.  However, not all the ancient wisdom was victim to the flames, because of the priests who escaped with armfuls of scrolls.  To their courage we owe thanks for the knowledge we do have of the works of philosophers, scientists, astronomers, and doctors of that age.          


	12. In Fanelia: Princess to Empress

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note: Keep in mind when reading this chapter that news reaches Fanelia rather slowly.

                    Millerna floated in on a wave of flowery perfume that reminded her sister of the beautiful fields in Asturia.  With her normal grace the princess curtsied to her sister and waited with a patient smile for a response.  The empress smiled politely offering both hands to the pretty girl in front of her.  Millerna folded the long fine-boned hands in her own taking a step closer and kissing both of her sister's cheeks.  Standing back, looking quite pleased to see Eries, Millerna commented, "You look very well, Sister."

          "As do you." Eries gave a nod dropping her sister's hands to gesture toward a chair.  She took the seat behind her and watched as Millerna dropped into the cushioned chair across from her.  She envied the vibrancy with which her younger sister moved, making ever gesture seem light as air, and unique in its own way.  She glanced away slightly unnerved by her moment of unbalance. 

The garden below lay silent, its lazy trees stirred only by an occasional breeze.  The grass looked like patchwork with the wide leaves of the Maples dappling the green earth with shade. Warmed by the sun the deck was an ideal spot to while away the hours.  Millerna sighed contentedly as she felt herself relax in the beauty of the day. 

          Smiling across at her sister she said, "You have such a lovely garden. I wish I had the skill you do with such things."

          Eries smiled graciously, though she said rather dully, "It is nothing. A rather useless talent."  Nonplussed Millerna raised her face to the sunlight, wishing every pore would soak it in.  She dropped her gaze to the table where a servant was placing a tray of tea.

          "Thank you." Millerna said to the girl who gave her a shy smile and scurried away to stand just inside the open glass doors.  She watched as another servant served the tea expertly and set a cup and saucer in front of her.  She thanked her as well and picked up the saucer in one hand while with the other she held her cup.  She took a sip of the dark liquid and flinched lightly as she realized it was coffee instead of tea.  As she carefully put both cup and saucer down she asked, "Have you had any word from your husband?"

          There was a tightening in Eries face, but she replied evenly, "Messengers have come with a copy of the formal agreement to disband Ptolemy's army signed by the queen and Ptolemy himself. As for any other word, there's been none. Only rumors that there is unrest in Egypt,"  Eries held her saucer in her hand as she raised the cup to her lips, all the while staring out across the garden. 

          Intent on her own cup, Millerna stirred in the two cubes of sugar and cream nodding, "Yes. I've heard of the trouble too. It seems the populace doesn't care much for their queen. I guess she's very ambitious. She took on powers belonging solely to the king."  Millerna smiled at this thinking of how very interesting it would be to have a woman control a kingdom.  She wondered for a moment what it would've been like if Eries had not married and been put in place as her father's successor.

          "Indeed. I hope Strategos will not have too much trouble with either. The Ptolemies are known for their internal feuds. And I doubt that we've heard the end of such trouble over there." Eries frowned her eyebrows winging inward as she concentrated on her words.  Millerna blinked at her, surprised by the trace of enthusiasm in her sister's comment.  She smiled slowly.

          "Do you think Strategos will have to fight? And if he does, what royal do you suppose he'll side with?" Millerna asked casually.  It wasn't often that she found something to converse about with her elder sister.  She stood and wandered to the rail of the balcony.   Turning back toward the table she carefully slid up onto the flat stone, curling her fingers around the edge.  She arranged her dress carefully, waiting for the empress to reply.  Sitting there like a carefree young girl her behavior hinted at that of a simple village maiden.  But of course her grace could not be mistaken for mere youthfulness.  Indeed she looked even more princess-like with the casual ease only royalty seemed to possess.  Eries, so used to her sister's manner only gave a fleeting smile.

          Again she settled into her mask of aloofness and spoke, "I would not be entirely surprised if Lord Strategos is caught between the two. A battle is likely to ensue at anytime. But I suppose it would be more appropriate for him to side with the young boy. Of course, Strategos has never been one to make decisions based on propriety."  Eries spoke so calmly as though she were only discussing her gardens.

          "But isn't Folken-ugh- his royal highness- outnumbered?" Millerna's eyes widened with intrigue.  She greatly frowned on fighting as an alternative, but what struck her was not the knowledge of a possible battle.  She watched Eries' face intently.

          "Yes, by quite a number in fact. Chasing Pompey for so long has slowly depleted his forces. I imagine he's at a great disadvantage with so few ships as well. Alexandria's sailors are quite well known, though I doubt they compare to Strategos' fleet. Still it is a precarious situation the emperor's placed himself in." Eries replied coolly.  Her lack of emotion about her husband's endangered life gave Millerna a spark of irritation.  How could Eries be so cold?

          Before she had really had a moment to think she snapped, "Sister don't you care for him? Aren't you concerned for your husband's safety? He _is_ your husband!"  Her face flushed pink, she made an effort to swallow and take a breath.  Why she felt so put off by her sister's attitude she couldn't quite say.  At first Eries felt her temper flare, but glimpsing the look of slight regret that settled upon Millerna's features she kept her anger in check.  Eries looked down at her teacup for a long while before she raised her head to rest her gaze on the young woman.

          "He is the Emperor of Gaea, of course I fear for him. There are many who look to him for protection and happiness. I would not wish ill of him." She finally said with a little sigh.  Still Millerna was unsatisfied with her answer and suddenly felt a rush of pity for her sister.  There was sadness in Eries' wheat-colored eyes that she had not seen before.  _How offal it must be to be so frozen, with such little emotion_.  For the first time Millerna honestly felt that she had never really known Eries at all.

          Softly she questioned, her eyes on her feet dangling just above the floor, "You do love him, don't you?"  When after a long time of silence Eries did not answer, Millerna murmured, "You once said you'd be honored to be his wife. When I asked you before the wedding if you were sure you wanted to be married to him, you told me that you had never met a man that treated you as Folken did. I thought- you said- that- you loved him because he treated you as a human being and not as a display piece. He was the only man you said you had ever thought of marrying… I wonder sister, are you happy?"  Her heart was aching for her only remaining sister, and you could see it on her face. 

The sounds from the garden below became a welcome melody.  Birds were twittering within the trees caressed by the breath of spring.  The fountain was as natural sounding as a mountain stream, trickling through the rocks in its muddy bed.  Beauty surrounded the two sisters, yet seemed in a universe all its own; outside the place where they sat silent.

Eries loved the serenity of the marble balcony off her private drawing room.  She felt soothed by the sight of her little sanctuary of flowers, grass, maples, cherries, and willows.  Surprisingly, she had no thought of being offended by Millerna's prying.  She knew that her younger sister had finally realized there was more behind the ice sculpture that was an empress.  It had taken so long for Millerna to see, but Eries could not be annoyed with that factor.  On the contrary, a peace swept over her that she had longed for, for so many years within Asturia's palace walls.  Maybe, after all this time, she would be granted some understanding.

"Millerna," The Empress breathed the name gently, then went on, "I do care if Folken goes into battle. Never have I been eager to watch him head away on his campaigns. But, it is a duty as his wife to keep faith in him… I am happy to be a part of his life, to be the organizer of his house and business affairs. He is a good man. He asks my opinion, and for that, I love him."  She rose from her seat in her white gown, and glided towards Millerna.  Gently she fingered her sister's golden curls, looking mildly into her eyes, "A woman is just a possession, just like a stunning horse, or a perfect portrait. Men graciously allow women to become their houses' caretaker, to bear their children, and spend their money, but with Folken I am not a woman. I am an equal. I have the freedom of any man… You see Fanelia has become my home. And all of its concerns have become mine. I rule when my husband is away, I take care of the things he sometimes neglects, and I am happy doing so. I am an **_Empress_**, Millerna."  With that said, she gave her sister a kiss on the cheek and turned away.  Eries walked toward the doors signaling her maids to follow her.  She said nothing more, and disappeared into the drawing room.

Author's Note:

So, how was that? I knew I had to put Millerna and Eries into the mix, and it seemed like a good time to do so.  I like both characters.  I think that Millerna is the girl we love to hate because she's got everything going for her that Hitomi doesn't (beauty, title, training).  No offense to Hitomi, I honestly think she's pretty, and has a lot to offer.  But to me, Millerna is a cool character because she has spirit and is ready to stand (I really dig the speech she gives in Freid to the Duke).  I admit, she annoys me when it comes to Allen, and her less than friendly attitude toward Hitomi sometimes, but…

And as for Eries, she's just a stellar character.  It's too bad were not offered more of a look into her life, but then again, it's straight because fan fiction writers have a knack for expanding on her nature.

  I hope none of you felt that I made Eries a subservient figure.  I desperately did not want to portray that, but I thought I might have confused some of you.  In all honesty I want to show Eries as a powerful woman, who does indeed have moments of pause when she feels lonely, but overall is pleased with her position in life.  I think that had Eries met Folken earlier in the Esca. Series they would have felt a connection with each other.  In my fan fiction I want it to be apparent that Eries is not just a depressed empress, who dotes on her husband's every move.  Eries has power in many aspects of government, and is happy with the respect she is given.  She does love Folken, but at the same time is not hopelessly romantic about their relationship.  But I guess I'll reveal more about Eries in other chapters, so I hope you'll stay with me!  Hasta, my dears!


	13. Wartorn

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note: Steal yourself for a long chapter! Sorry!

                    The pounding at the doors was beginning to irritate her as she murmured the protective prayers in Egyptian.  The priests around her chanted as well, burning the offerings their queen had brought with her in tribute to the goddess.  Again the doors to the temple trembled as the soldiers once again pounded into it trying to break the thick wood beam that barred the entrance.  Within the holy precinct the rattle of the sistrum and sound of lutes and horns along with the priestesses singing could not drown out the panic that the men outside were creating.  Panic was the last thing Sitiah wanted to feel.  Her teeth gripped her bottom lip at the thought of her beautiful city in the hold of uncertainty.  And her stomach tightened as she remembered the white horse that had carried Strategos away.  She glanced to her left trying to see her servant out of the corner of her eye. 

Isadora seemed to be the only one, besides the high priest, that was undisturbed by the chaos.  As always the Prophetess felt a kind of tranquility that only the incense and hymns could fill her with.  As a devote priestess she had spent much of her time in such temples, learning the praises, ceremonies, and prayers that had been kept since the days of Egyptian kings.  Her first memories of Egypt were of kind-hearted priestesses and sacred gods glowing gold in the light from the lamps.  After all, it had been a priestess who had found her beneath the palm trees in the courtyard of Isis' temple.  Asleep in a patch of moonlight, Isadora, at that time called by the name Hitomi, had woken to the sound of Lady Mitylene's soft giggle.  From that moment onward, Hitomi was engulfed in the dazzling world of Greek- Egypt, where the atmosphere was far different from what she'd known. 

Isadora smiled at the warm memory of welcoming Egypt into her heart.  She'd been only six years of age when life had taken that unexpected turn for her, but still she found that she could not feel bitter towards the odd fate.

The reasons behind her calm manner were simple.  She was confident that the war was coming to a close.  And though she blushed at the knowledge, she was certain that the two men who had been the main focus of her prayers were alive.  Of course she had prayed for Miles as well, she had promised him she would.  And Sitiah had asked her to keep Strategos in mind as well, but… Another face had entered her mind when she asked Isis to protect the fighting men.  It had seemed right though.  It was right that she had petitioned the goddess on that man's behalf.  Wasn't it proper that she had, being that he asked her to- well- sort of…

                                                 _Flashback_

          Isadora watched the two from the shadows.  There was a look of remorse on her face, regret and happiness mingled in her eyes.  She could see through the brave front with which her queen used to smile at Strategos reassuringly.  But the Prophetess could hear the uncertainties ringing in Sitiah's ears.

Strategos, you'll come back. You have to! I will lose everything if you do not! Please, Eset- mother of Egypt- do not let him lose! What will I do if he- dies- if he leaves me alone? Ptolemy will have me executed- all my men- he'll take them- and Isa-  I know that little bastard! He'll make her a concubine to spite me! Oh gods, gods! I ache so much! Why does this war have to be?

Yes.  The handmaiden could hear the doubts as clearly as she could feel her own heartbeat.  If it had been her with so many insecurities she would have cried.  But the queen had a warrior's will that would allow her only a sculpture's countenance.

"Stay where my guards can protect you. Ptolemy will try to send assassins. And in the chaos it's likely that one or more might be able to penetrate the palace' defenses. My men have orders to lay their lives on the line should that happen." Strategos was telling her quickly, his concentration already feeding on battle plans.  He was watching the movements of his men in the intersecting hallway, his eyes steely and shrewd.  Abruptly he took her upper arm in one hand dropping his gaze to her face, "Don't do anything foolish, Sitiah. I've left some of my best men in charge of your safety. I won't have them killed because you are being stubborn."  His voice was stern, but both Isadora and her queen knew his words were spurned by concern as much as they were cold calculation.  Sitiah looked back at him with the same seriousness and she narrowed her eyes.

"I will not die," She said surely, then went on in a low voice, "You're foolish to think I need so many of your men, when they can be of more use to you in the field. Ptolemy has no hope of killing me, with or without your unnecessary precautions."  They stared at one another for a long time, their eyes devoid of any gentle emotion.  It was as though they were threatening each other.  Sitiah broke the silent showdown pushing up on her toes to crush her lips against his.  Folken's hand tightened on her arm, as he took hold of the back of her head, pulling her hard against him.  Their eyes closed, the passion was intense, heated.  It seemed that they were arguing with one another as they kissed so fiercely.  Isadora had never seen a man and woman seem to battle one another in a display of affection, she found herself staring wide eyed.  When they're lips broke apart, both were breathing heavily.  Again they glared at one another.  Strategos let her go in an almost forceful way, and turned on his heel striding away from her.

"If you die because of your stupidity, Strategos, I'll curse you and have your body thrown to the crocodiles!" Sitiah called after him furiously.  She was flushed with irritation, but her maid knew it was an act to keep her from hopeless pity.  The woman's lips trembled so that she bit her bottom lip to control the shivers.  She said nothing as she took a steadying breath and flew away toward her office.  The Prince heading in the opposite direction stopped and started to bow. 

Ignoring him she snarled, "Your brother is an idiot!" and swept passed him into the room, slamming the door behind her.  Van looked bewildered as he slowly rose, but did not think on it for long spotting the queen's assistant.  Isadora almost laughed, her smile pleased, until she noticed the young man's attention on her.  Instantly Isadora's breath caught in her throat, and she began to look indecisive.  He walked toward her and she barely had time to reverence him before he stopped in front of her.

"Lady Isadora, you should be in hiding." He stated emotionlessly.  The sound of his stern tone puzzled her and she frowned.

_So, you're still being like that huh?_  She thought.  She raised her chin in a haughty way and responded, "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be Prince Van."

He snorted with a little sneer.  He took her wrist tugging her passed him, "I doubt that. Go to your queen."  Shocked she gasped, unsure what to do. 

Then scowling she snatched her arm away and rounded on him in exasperation, "What gives you the right to speak to me like that? Why are you so- so- rude now?"  Van only looked away from her, feeling his patience running thin, and a trickle of shame hit his heart like a drop of hard rain.  He knew that he was being uncharacteristically discourteous towards her, but it was the only way he knew to be toward a girl who confused him.  He inwardly slapped himself for losing track of his initial plan. 

He brought his eyes to her face and said, "Never mind. Get going."

Isadora shook her head and snapped, "No! Why should I?"

Van growled his hands forming fists at his sides, "Are all women this dense?"

Her eyes flashed with green lightning as she strained to keep from slapping him.  She hissed in annoyance and said acidly, "You're an ass. Why is that?"  He blinked, struck dumb by her question.  Swallowing he frowned in a vulnerable way, that reminded her of Ptolemy when he was genuinely sad.  It wasn't a sorrowful look, more of a cheerless pout. 

Before he could answer her a messenger darted toward them crying, "Lord Prince!"  He stopped several feet away panting, "They're rushing the eastern gate! The emperor's ordered you to take your forces to meet the enemy there."  Van nodded, his face losing all trace of the depressed child.  Isadora made a soft sound of distress that caused worry to turn him to her.  Without hesitation he took her arm gently, the way Folken had done to Sitiah.

Isadora sucked in a wavering breath, "Oh-"

But the prince silenced her with one kind look, "Go to your queen. Stay safe with her. Please."  It was sincere.  The anxiety in the red-brown pools made her certain of that.  Isadora's own eyes held her fear for him, and she was unnerved by the realization that she had glimpsed this moment.  Dreams were coming to reality again and she opened her mouth to say something, but could find nothing to express. 

"Stay safe, Lady Isadora." He breathed, slowly stepping backward away from her.  She found tears in her eyes as she nodded numbly.  He unwillingly tore his gaze away and turned determinedly.  As he headed away the handmaiden could feel the alarm clenching her throat.

Suddenly she cried out, "I'll pray for you Van!"  He didn't look back, and she earnestly hoped he had heard her.  She pursed her lips tightly swallowing the tears as he vanished from sight.  _Be safe, Van_.  Isadora turned and took the same path her lady had into the chamber, guarded by Strategos' own men.

                              _End of Flashback    _

At once Isadora found herself very much startled, and her eyes opened with a clear alarm resting within them.  The pounding had stopped, and like her, others around her picked up on this vital sign and had halted in their prayers.  The entire temple was still; the only sound the intake of hurried breaths from the worshippers.

          "The Emperor has come!" The cry went out followed by the clang of a golden censer as it fell to the marble floor. 

          "Open the doors!" Sitiah gasped, stepping over the spill of incense at her feet and striding toward the end of the long hall to the entrance.  Isadora turned to watch as the priests at the doors frantically pulled at the wooden bar.  A murmur of excitement went through the room.  Letting a shaking breath escape her lips Isadora went after her queen.  She felt an odd sense of apprehension nipping at her, as she thought of the emperor and his brother _safe_ within the palace walls.  The beam had been removed from the doors, which were being pushed open steadily, wafting cool evening air into the sanctuary. 

As though blown in with the breeze Strategos stepped in, trailed by several of his officers who could barely keep up with his great pace.  Marked by blood, with dirt smudged upon his face, he looked like a war god, alluring and dangerous in his battle stained clothes.  _His injuries are few._  Isadora assessed quickly scanning him with the trained eye of a healer.  _But they're deep. But he looks well enough, though obviously weary._  She watched as he stopped a few steps before Sitiah who stood staring at him with an inscrutable expression.  For the second time everything went still as Emperor and Queen faced one another.

          Gracefully bowing with all his royal dignity Folken intoned, "Your highness, Queen Sitiah."  The woman said nothing only inclining her head for him to continue.  "Your brother is dead, his army has surrendered… Egypt is yours." He studied her face carefully, his voice betraying only a hint of pride, meant for only Sitiah to hear.

          Slowly the queen smiled, a polite curl of the lips hiding her true emotion behind courtly manners, "We are quite pleased with Strategos' success, a masterful victory."  It was all very formal, simple really, though the whole building seemed to let out a silent sigh of relief along with a stirring of cheer.

          "Praise Isis, the mother goddess for the victory!" One of the brotherhood exclaimed.  His shout of triumph was taken up so that the room erupted into similar thanksgivings and refreshed laughter.  Isadora smiled widely looking about at the joyous mingling of priests and priestesses, and groups of eased soldiers.  For a moment a pang of sadness shot through her as she realized that though Fanelians and Egyptians had fought for a similar cause, they did not feel the need to mingle in their happiness.  There was also a moment of pity for Ptolemy mixed with the unrest.  However, the thought drifted away at the sound of Folken's voice.

          "Come, all must join in the palace! Our day has been full, but it is not over." He raised his voice above the celebration.  The crowd became more subdued as the mass was reminded of their duty.  Sitiah walked to Folken and took his arm turning with him to the door.  The path cleared and all became ordered as men and women fell in behind the two mindful of their stations.  Isadora allowed herself to be lost in the flock of priestesses.  It mattered little to her that her place was nearer to the queen, though she doubted Sitiah would notice her absence.  She was swept along; calmed by the announcement, and hopeful that she would soon see the handsome features of a familiar face.

                    Alexandria had been won, but Strategos would not allow that knowledge to sink in.  There were still several things that needed to be done to secure the city and keep his men from being lulled into a false security.  Reconstruction had to be done where it could for the night to ensure that the citizens had shelter.  The fires that had sprouted had to be brought under control and doused, while all damages were taken stock of.  Scribes were sent out to record the number of civilians and soldiers dead and injured in the struggle.  There were also men to tally the number of enemy troops dead and captured.  The temples filled with battle worn soldiers, and priests and priestesses jumped into action to do what they could.  Much work was required to be able to put the memory of the fight behind, and Strategos as well as the queen were quick to remind all of that.

          Not until an hour or so before the sun was to rise again were all orders finally given.  Strategos had dismissed the last messenger for the day.  He stood in the throne room suddenly looking much older than he truly was, the lamp light casting shadows on his tired face.  Sitiah too was in need of rest, but she wore it much better than the general.  Her features still looked fresh and soft as she sat silently in the chair in front of the table.  Folken leaned heavily on the wood at the head of the table, hanging his head as he shook it slowly.

"Too much blood spilled today." He said quietly, his voice surprisingly unhindered by the weight of sleep.  He seemed to be merely stating a fact, though Sitiah caught the almost nonexistent hint of regret. 

          She got to her feet with her usual grace and went to stand by him, "Come."  She placed her hand upon his shouldered coaxing gently, "Let me take you to our chamber."  He seemed to consider this for a moment his eyes fixed upon the polished wood between his hands with no real interest.  He did not miss the comment about it being their chamber, but was too tired to tease her about a lesson in sharing.  Finally he nodded in silent surrender, allowing her to slip her arm around his back to place her other hand on his shoulder.  Her hands had to slip down, one to his arm and the other to his back as he stood at his full height.  Sluggishly she began to walk him toward the doors where the only other two people in the room stood.  Halfway there, Strategos stopped in his tracks swaying on his feet.  Alarmed, Sitiah gripped his arm more tightly and turned to face him.  Just as she looked into his eyes to see how very unfocused they were, he fell forward onto his knees bringing her to the floor along with him.  He was much bigger than her, but still she managed to catch him in her arms as he dipped forward.  She eased him down, shifting herself so that she could cradle him, part of his back against her thighs and his head in her arms.  The guards at the double doors rushed forward to aid her, but her head went up and she stopped them a step away with one look.

          "Go fetch my handmaiden, she should be among the priests in the left wing's courtyard. Tell her to bring her herbs and to find Olympus as well." She commanded in a measured voice.  One of the soldiers, a young man with light green eyes, nodded staring in astonishment at the emperor's pale face.  He looked frightened, and she pitied him for he seemed to be no older than her own handmaiden.  She sobered quickly and snapped, "Did you not hear me? Go! And say nothing to anyone about this!"  His eyes flitted to her face, and he swallowed nodding numbly.  After looking back at his emperor once more he turned and ran to follow her instructions.  The other guard had gone down on one knee in front of the two, earnestly looking between her and Strategos.  "You must go to Strategos' own physician and bring him here immediately." Sitiah said, looking into the man's eyes, trying to impress the seriousness of situation.  He was obviously more seasoned than the other guard for he gave a quick nod and was on his feet without hesitation. 

Alone with him, Sitiah looked worriedly down at the still figure in her arms.  For the first time she conceded to cry.  She wept, her tears falling on the man's face as her body shook with the violence of her sorrow.  She cried not only for fear of his eminent death, but also for her treasured Alexandria that had been torn apart by a family dispute, leaving the place racked with terrifying memories. 

"Please, please Strategos do not leave me," She begged in a breathy whisper, then leaned down to press a kiss on his cheek, "I need you still."  All through the agonizing hours of waiting out the battle, Sitiah had refused to become frantic over Folken.  She fought against every doubt that surfaced in her mind.  And it **_had_** been truly hard for her to watch him mount his silver horse, and take the lead of his army.  Knowing how sorely outnumbered they were caused a tight knot to twist in her stomach becoming almost unbearable at times when she had no news of the statistics.  Now she let all her terror spill out as she hugged him tightly to her chest pleading with him to stay with her.

                                                     Historical Note:

Caesar did win Alexandria, though the odds were set against him, but then again we are talking about a great military tactician. He set his own ships on fire, and some of those captured in the port that were part of Alexandria's fleet, and sailed them into the enemies ship formation.  He did this for one: To be sure that the enemy couldn't take control of any more ships and two: To set fire to the enemy ships.   One of the turning points in the battle for both sides was when Caesar captured the lighthouse on the Pharos.  The lighthouse by the way was one of the ancient wonders of the world set on a small island off Alexandria's coast.  It was a great accomplishment at the time and could be seen from 30 miles out to sea.  Oh, and just so you know, pharaoh is actually a Greek term for what Egyptians called there ruler which is (blank, darn it I forgot!- I'll get back to ya on that one).

Also, it's been discovered that Julius Caesar was indeed plagued by a rare disease.  In his time it was termed as "the falling sickness".  I'm not perfectly clear on the precise disorder, so if anyone does happen to know, do me a favor and fill me in!  And if not, have no fear, I'll see what I can find and cue ya'll in a chapter or so.

Author's Note:

A bit of a long ch. there for ya. Sorry about the tedium! Okay, so I'll try to update soon!         


	14. Slept So Long Without You

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                    With a sigh of relief Isadora backed out of the room after reverencing her queen.  Exhausted she fell back against the doors closing her eyes as she rested her head against the wood.  She was glad to be released from her duties that morning.  There were only a couple hours of dark left and she had not yet been to bed.  Almost painfully she pulled herself away from the doors to wearily pace toward the bathhouse.  Her once white linen was stained with blood and smelled of strong healing herbs, myrrh, and sweat.  She had been tending to the injured all evening, running back and forth between the barracks and the apothecary's home.  Not to mention listening and contributing what she could to the conversation between her, Olympus, and Strategos' physician in the queen's chamber.  She'd had enough of stitching wounds, and applying bandages to last her a lifetime.  But she was pleased that she had helped, though the sight of all the death and wreckage had threatened to throw her into a sickbed as well.  Yawning she turned a corner only to be knocked to the ground.  She groaned looking up at the figure bending over her.

          "Ohhhhh! I'm so sorry! I should've been paying more attention, you know?" Merle gasped.  She looked over the woman on the floor with concern.  When Isadora only blinked in amazement the girl smiled apologetically, "Here let me help you."  She reached for Isadora's arms, and quickly lifted her to her feet.

          "Thank you." Isadora said, still a bit disoriented.  She managed to give the girl a small smile.

          "No, no. Don't. I practically ran through you!" Merle shook her head with a light chuckle, "Again, I'm sorry."

          "Really, it's alright. I guess it was my fault too, I feel like I'm walking in my sleep." She rolled her eyes at herself.

          Suddenly the young woman squinted her eyes at the Prophetess and said slowly, "You're the queen's maid. I saw you when you arrived the other day, I was watching from the tower… Say, do you know where Lord Folken is?"

"Why, yes," Isadora nodded, "He's resting. In the queen's chamber."  She watched the girl with an unexplainable interest.

"Oh," The girl relaxed with a lazy smile, "Good then. I better be off to tell Lord Van then. Nice meetin' ya!"  She gave a quick wave and turned on her heel to run back the way she'd come.

"Van?" Isadora's voice stopped the hurried cat-girl.  She turned back with a frown.

Cocking her head slightly she put her hands on her hips, "What's your name again?"

"Isadora," She answered quickly, and pressed, "But the prince. He's alright?"  Merle studied the look of hope on the handmaiden's face for a moment then looked down at the woman's clothes and back up again.  Isadora waited impatiently, irritated by the girl's rudeness.  A servant did not judge another servant who was their elder-or for that matter their superior. 

Finally Merle clicked her tongue as though coming to a great decision and said, "Yes. The prince is just fine. He has a few scratches that I told him to get taken care of, but nothing to get serious over. He sent me to check on his brother, but seeing as how he's with the queen, I'm sure he's as safe as he can be."  She smirked at the irony with a humored snort.  She eyed Isadora in earnest again, rubbing at her cheek with the back of her hand.  The skin turned pink as it was smudged with even more grime.  With a unconcerned shrug she stopped scanning and said casually, "You can go see him if ya want. He's on the balcony near the throne room eating a late meal. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you joined him."  Before Isadora could stutter an embarrassed protest Merle spun around and dashed away calling, "I'm goin' to bed! See you around!"  Isadora was left standing there blushing and wondering why the girl had suggested she seek out the prince.

     It had been two days since the battle had ended… The white silk of the sheets was dazzled with the sunlight that pierced through the thin curtain surrounding the bed.    Warmth was rolled into such beautiful things as the rays gently touched the embracing couple.  It was a serene morning where everything seemed to glow, to shimmer in its own hazy way.  Their skin was soft and perfect and with each touch seemed to become more so.  Sitiah's gentle hand smoothed over the flesh of Strategos cheek over, and over as though he was only a pet. 

Sweetly she murmured, "You've rescued Egypt… You are a great man, Strategos Folken."  Her face lay inches from his against a down pillow.  Her breath caressed his face, as welcome as a summer's breeze.  He was enveloped in her care and love.  She wanted him to be near to her, and she made sure they were not disturbed.  She kissed the tip of his nose and then his lips as lightly as would a child.  It was very innocent, though their bodies lay naked beneath the silk, touching only modestly.  He lay on his back, and she on her side, her thigh touching his, her body curving against his side.  Her smile was so lovely it caused his heart to ache; wishing that the loving look she graced him with would never fade. 

          "You scared me so much the day of the battle." Her sculpted eyebrows drew inward as she frowned.  The concern was obvious in her voice, her features looking somewhat more delicate.  Strategos turned onto his side and put his arm around her waist.  He drew her closer to him, pressing his lips to her forehead and closing his eyes.  His lips lingered there for a time as he thought of how very smooth the skin of her face was, beautiful and unlined by age.  Sitiah sighed contentedly curling in towards him like a kitten. 

          He looked down at her, "I'm sorry you had so much to fear for that day. Your city…" He frowned shaking his head with regret.  She could see that he was truly penitent.  She had to swallow back the tears as the realization of how much she loved him in that moment threatened to smother her.

          She'd been on her own for so long that she had forced herself to think that she had to rely on only herself.  When she was only a girl, she was made to sit by her father's side at her sister's execution, and it had been then that she had become aware of the fact that no one could truly be trusted.  Her father had been her last source of shelter, and too soon did she discover that even he was full of weaknesses that could break her.  Ever since those offal days when her father had been in exile she had known loneliness that could not be easily brushed aside despite the love she received from those loyal to her.  The childhood friends who she had looked to for any youthful happiness could not completely dispel the feeling of abandonment that had been with her since she was old enough to understand death.  Her mother had been taken from the world soon after she had been born, which left her with an unfulfilled place in her heart.  But now she was beginning to believe that fate would not be so cruel as to let her live in bitter solitude.  It was a dangerous thought to entertain, but with Strategos near her she could not doubt his faithfulness.

          "In time my city will be as beautiful as it once was. And with your continued vigilance she will shine even brighter!" She grinned so that her whole being seemed to glow with radiance.  But Strategos still looked distracted, his brow furrowed.  He did not meet her gaze, for if he had she would see that his thoughts were in turmoil.  Slowly the queen's expression faded and she studied him worriedly.  Was he to pass out again?  Did the falling sickness plague him again? 

"Strategos?" She questioned in alarm sitting up suddenly, her hand on his arm.  He blinked and looked up at her.  Immediately he felt guilty for worrying her and sat up as well, his arm moving from around her waist to prop himself up.

          "I'm not a frail old man, Sitiah." He sighed staring down at the coverlet.  Sitiah pursed her lips then drew a breath as though about to say something, but stayed silent.  Oddly the bed didn't seem as warm anymore.  There was something unspoken between them, and Folken knew it, though Sitiah did not.  He was uncertain whether he should speak his thoughts knowing that they would undoubtedly set the woman to brooding.  It almost made him laugh to think that he was afraid to make his opinion known to a woman.  Suddenly he felt more like a boy than a man, and the thought vexed him. 

_Why should I treat her as though she were my superior? I don't cower before anyone! Certainly not a queen! But I suppose I must use tact when it comes to dealing with this situation. After all I need no more battles in Alexandria. _ 

A knot of pity balled in his stomach for he knew it was unfair to think of Sitiah as just a political ally.  He reprimanded himself with a stern reminder that she meant a great deal to him, which had nothing to do with her position.  Finally he looked into her eyes and said, "Sitiah, I cannot stay as long as it will take to mend the damage here. I must return to Fanelia."

Author's Note:

Short chapter, sorry, I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone. Well the next few chapters are all the day after or the same day, which is rather slow paced, but, hey, I'm a slow one.

Peace kisses to all of you who've read and reviewed! Thanks! And if ya could, please keep commenting. If you feel I'm going a little too slow, let me know, I'd honestly appreciate it.   


	15. Where We Go From Here

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note:  Thanks to those of you that reviewed to let me know that the "falling sickness" is termed Epilepsy in our day. You're all too sweet!

          Piercing.  It was the only way to describe her eyes.  The desert orbs of light and shadow that were her eyes pierced him like the endless night frightens the lost.  Her eyes were the most alluring about her, and they spoke of everything and nothing all at once.  Strategos knew that if he allowed her eyes to enchant him, he would give up everything for her if she but asked.  He took a deep breath and turned his head to look out through the gauzy curtains to the balcony beyond.  

          "You would leave me?" Sitiah voice was barely more than a whisper.  However it was enough to stir his heart, reminding him again of how gripped by her he was.  

But he kept his voice cool, refusing to look at her, "Surely, you did not think that I could stay? How arrogant of you, Sitiah."  He sighed and moved to the edge of the bed.  He got to his feet and picked up a robe off a chair.  Pulling it on he informed her, "I have the whole of Gaea to think of. I am an emperor… Besides you are now queen-"

Outraged Sitiah hissed, "Bastard!"  He turned to look at her his eyes narrowed, though his stance remained calm.  She glared at him from the bed.  She was the picture of myth; the vicious eastern queen who's very evil came from her black eyes and sorcery.  Like a cat stalking her prey she moved from the bed, wrapping the sheet about her.  Strategos prepared himself for a sudden attack, but none came.  He'd half expected her to try to strike him like she had the unfortunate guard a few days before.  It took a great effort not to smile remembering the sight of the young man standing at attention, his left cheek bandaged where long strips of skin had been sliced away.  

She sauntered toward him as gracefully as a dancer, each move a threat, her whole body a sleek and seductive weapon.  She stopped two steps from him, her eyes locked upon his bemused face.  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  

With a poisonous sweetness she said, "I see right through you, Strategos. You **_fear _**me. You wish to distance yourself because you know that I have brought out something in you that no one ever has. I have conquered more than you ever have, haven't I? And you wish to go so that I will do no more damage… Because **_you_ are the mighty Strategos, and **_I_** am a lowly Egyptian sorceress."  **

Her statement had struck him to the core, and it pained him to know that she was right.  He stood for a moment feeling completely lost and unsure of himself.  Of course the emotion did not register on his face, but still the queen knew she had brought hesitancy in him.  Gripping the silk to her chest she turned away from him.  

Softly she said, "I have duties as well, Folken… My younger brother, Ptolemy the XIV, is the last of men of my family. I **_will_** marry him- as tradition demands. He is young however, only eleven, therefore I will hold power as I have wished."  Strategos had forgotten that element of the Ptolemaic culture, and he winced at her words.  But still he only frowned moodily and said nothing.  Sitiah bit her lip suddenly, so hard that she broke the tender skin and could taste her blood.  She felt spurned by him in his silence.  Had he nothing to say?  Even knowing that she would soon marry again?  

Finally she spun back to face him; "It means nothing without you here! My title is- useless! Do you really want to go so badly? Don't you wish to know more of me?"  Her heart raced in her urging.  _Please, let him tell me he wants to be with me! Oh Hathor, please don't let me be the fool for this man! Strategos don't turn me away, not yet! I know there is more to us!  By this time she was trembling despite the sun streaming in on her.  A few drops of blood trickled from her lip, but she did not seem to realize.  He was looking at her, watching her anxiously pull the fabric tighter to her body.  _

"Such a beautiful girl you are, Sitiah." He said gently, putting his hands on the sides of her face.  For a long while he just gazed into her eyes.  Ever the cold conqueror, he was intentionally steering her away from the argument.  Strategos knew her well enough to know that if he insisted upon his departure at that time she would never forgive him.  He thought it best to wait it out, at least until she wasn't so irresolute in her trust.  Before he left Alexandria's shores he had to be sure he had made an ally and not an enemy.  Besides, something in him was adamant about him holding onto whatever it was they had.  It was indeed out of the ordinary for him to feel that he needed someone, but he needed her.  Needed her?  Was that what his heart truly said?  Never mind.  The best thing was to insure his political standings.  He was an emperor; it was his duty to put this woman's mind at ease.

Her fingers stilled and released the sheet numbly, which floated to the floor without a sound.  His hands slid down to her shoulders and continued to go over her naked flesh.  His hands on her waist he brought her closer to him as he leaned down to kiss her.  Her blood was sucked into his mouth.  It meant more than he realized.  It was a sign.  A warning of greater tension, and a promise of Sitiah's growing power over him.  After all, blood means life.

Isadora knew her cheeks were flushed, and wished desperately that she had the complexion of the natives.  Though she'd been able to sleep for a day and half she suddenly felt that it had not been enough to return sense to her.  She knew that she hadn't spoken to give an excuse for her presence, but her breath was coming too fast.  If she had had the magic that everyone suspected she did, she would disappear from the place she stood, leaving no trace of her having ever entered.

Van's voice startled her, "Isadora? Did you hear me?"  He frowned in honest confusion.  He watched her from a pillow upon the floor beside a low table laden with trays of fruit and dishes of steaming meat and vegetables.  She'd caught him at the noon meal, which made her regret her intrusion even more.

"Your majesty," Isadora started, then took a more confident breath and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"  He only smiled with subtle amusement.  She had completely caught him off guard in her mysterious way.  He liked the idea that he never knew what emotion she would regard him with, whether nervousness or calm, he was intrigued by both.

He gestured to the food with a wave of his hand, "Can I offer you something?"  It was an unheard of offer for a prince to suggest to a servant.  But for him to propose it to the girl seemed no more than was proper to him.  Then again, Prince Van was not known to be the most learned when it came to royal etiquette.  

Isadora shook her head, taking note of the white linen wrapped around his sword hand.  She forced herself not to flush at the gesture of kindness, and instead to focus on remaining humble in his presence. With her queen she never had to worry about overstepping her boundaries as a servant. Of course she wouldn't allow herself to forget the older woman's station, to do so would be rude, not to mention unthinkable in the mind of a loyal handmaiden.

"Thank you, no. I came to see that you were well cared for, highness." She said.  She knew that it seemed a touch cold to not speak on a more friendly tone, but she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that demanded she stay unattached.  Being Sitiah's handmaiden had instilled in her boldness that she took pride in.  Stuttering like a village girl did not suit her.  But she could not find it in herself to lay caution aside.  

"I see," Van's pleased look had fled, and he looked rather disappointed by her response, "The queen sent you then."  He got to his feet with a princely grace and turned his back to her.  It would be unfitting for him to betray his discouragement.  _She came in looking generally concerned about me, and now she's just- obeying orders. Grrrr! Why do I even care?_  His hand twitched lightly at his side.

Doing her best to ignore the defeat she had seen, she said politely, "The queen has not sent me, your highness."  She paused uncertainly.  What was her excuse again?  She pressed on anxiously, "As- the head of staff- it is my duty to see to her majesty's guests in her absence- I mean that she is busy with other affairs of course-"  

Unfortunately her improvised speech had only heightened the prince's awareness of her plan to avoid him as a friend.

Van gave a derisive laugh placing his hands on his hips, "I doubt my brother would take very kindly to you referring to him as 'her affairs'."  Isadora frowned down at the floor.  His laughter had seemed a bit biting.  

Swallowing her pride she replied, "I meant no disrespect. I only meant to clarify that I oversee the business of considering our guests-"

Again Van found himself offended and interrupted her with an unmannerly snort, "Hmph."  He crossed his arms with a scowl, "It seems to me that your queen has forgotten her duty as hostess to provide her guests with more proper attention. After all we did just win a war for her country's sake!"  

Isadora was taken aback for a moment.  _Why is he acting like this? Like I- we- owe him something!_  She scowled at him fighting the urge to demand an explanation for his behavior.  

Instead of angrily responding she spoke in an aloof tone, "May I remind, his highness, that Egypt is an independent nation, out of Fanelia's jurisdiction? And also may I point out that my queen has spent a considerable amount on food and medical supplies for Strategos' troops. Not to mention the costly banquets she has graciously given in their honor."  Though she did not realize it, Isadora was quite lucky for having been in the presence of only Van and his most loyal men.  As it was the soldiers that had gone on enjoying the meal in low tones, suddenly stared at her.  No one dared inform the prince, brother of the lord of all Gaea, that he had overlooked something.  They glanced at one another in shock and uncertainty as Van slowly angered.  The men knew his temper and decided it best to pretend to not have heard.  The room lapsed back into its quiet comraderie with the voices of the men, but still there was uneasiness.  Van was stung by her haughty tone, and would not suffer the insult.  The kind visit she had meant to pay him was turning into a war of words.

*Woo, woo, woo, to all of you V/H fans out there. Take into consideration that Fanelia and Egypt are complete opposites.  Rome and Egypt were the same.  And because Rome had the world in its pocket, the Romans felt themselves superior to any non-Roman peoples.  So you see there is going to be some tension between Hitomi and Van because of their allegiances.  That is also a key factor in the relationship between Strategos and Sitiah.  I feel this best portrays the Cleopatra story because it was a huge thing to be from two very diverse cultures. But what is it they say?  "Love conquers all"?  Well, maybe…         


	16. Dividing Lines

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Note: This chapter takes up where the last ended.

          Folken had always said that diplomacy was lost on those who were too hotheaded.  He frequently told this to his brother who could often be described as too temperamental for his own good.

          Van's whole body had tensed and he rounded on her snapping, "May I remind you, Servant, of whom you speak to! And as for your queen's graciousness I'd say she should take care to not forget that without Fanelia there'd be no Egypt for her to rule! She is queen only because my brother has allowed her to be!"   Isadora's mouth had fallen open at his outburst, but she was quick to defend her mistress.

          "Sitiah is queen because it is her right! Not because you buffoons ran around with your swords!" She argued without pause.  Silence pressed upon the hall again.  The food practically fell from the men's open mouths as they watched with rapt attention.  Flushed with annoyance, and beyond all courtesy, Van squeezed his fists shut tightly.

          "Don't be stupid! Just because that woman holds Strategos' interest in bed doesn't mean that she has complete rule over this desert waste!" He lashed out.  But at the look of horror on Isadora's face he felt his anger fail.  Could this be the same soldier who had wanted her to stay out of danger?  She looked as though she were about to cry and be sick at the same time.  Her hand flew to her mouth as she took a few steps back from him shaking her head in disbelief.  Suddenly Van looked forlorn, as his eyes shifted to right and left as though searching for some appropriate cover up.  The handmaiden pulled her hand from her mouth, swallowing with a great effort.

          _It is true! They do despise us! They think that we're all eastern witches! And that- my queen-my queen is some sort of- seductress. He- he despises her! He- despises…us!_  She pursed her lips forcing herself to face him and not run from the room as her heart longed to do.  Quickly she covered her hurt with the formality expected of a servant.  

"Forgive me, Prince Van, I've- forgotten myself. I'll take my leave if there is nothing else." She blurted.  Van could only stare at her uncertainly for several moments.  She stared past him, gripping all her peaceful reserves in desperation.  But blood, could not keep her cold.  

Dripping like thick red wine from Van's wounded hand, the blood pooled into a tiny puddle on the tile.  Isadora had closed the space between them in an instant, her healer's instinct taking over all sense.  She picked up his hand and cradled it in one of hers as she examined the blood soaked bind.  

She ignored the look of complete confusion as she glanced up, "Who tended this?"

          "There was no available physician-so-I-," He answered quietly.

          She smirked studying his hand again, "It's been neglected… Come." She led him to the table without his protest.  And lowered herself to her knees, forcing him down in front of her.  He sat down, one knee to his chest, the other folded on the pillows in front of him.  Carefully unwrapping the makeshift bandage -obviously torn from dirty battle attire- she searched the table for anything helpful.  Looking to the wound again, she gasped as she realized how deep into the flesh it was.  It had missed tendons, thank the goddess, but almost went through to the other side.  

Her eyes could not mask her pity as she gazed up at him, "What did this?"

          "An enemy dagger." He glowered at the memory, staring above her head, "We were checking over the streets to count for all dead and wounded. I turned over a fellow I thought dead and he dug the damn blade into my hand-"

          "We killed the Egyptian bastard for it too!" One of Van's men informed her.

          "No one touches our general and gets away with it." Another muttered.  The soldiers' attention was snatched away again as they went into their accounts of the battle, and how fiercely they hated the enemy.  Isadora suppressed an urge to shudder as their gruff voices went into detail about the kills.  She was disturbed by their ardor for combat, and even more chilled by the animosity they harbored for those who were not born of Fanelia.  She did her best to ignore them however as she picked up a pitcher of water, drawing it closer to her.

          "Please, relax your hand, it's tense." She ordered him looking away to spot the steward standing at the door.  She found herself relieved that she recognized the man from the palace staff and spoke to him in an archaic form of Greek, "Have one of the ladies fetch my bag of herbs and some clean linen strips."  The dialect she had used was a more simple form of Alexandria's primary language, one that she was certain no one else in the room knew.  She felt a little ashamed for her sudden need to guard her words from the ears of the foreigners.  But she quickly pushed the thought aside and picked up a flagon of wine.  Filling the gold chalice near Van's almost empty plate she said, "I'll need to inspect the wound and clean it before I stitch it. It's very deep Prince Van."  She handed him the cup.  He took it watching her carefully as though she would suddenly make an unexpected move.

          He replied, "It's nothing. I've had worse."

          "Yes, I imagine you have." She said emotionlessly looking towards the door where the steward had disappeared.

          She washed the wound carefully; cleaning it to be sure no infection would set in.  All the while Van watched her over the rim of gold, sipping the stronger wine she had insisted he drink.  Her eyes did not meet his as she bound the cut with herbs to help it heal, wrapping a white strip of cloth about it.  

          Gathering all her supplies into her leather bag she said, "I will check on it tomorrow, if your highness wishes it."  Clutching her bag in one hand at her side she looked up at him.  He nodded absently, staring at the gold of the chalice, catching the sun.  Isadora felt a pinch of resentment, watching as he rotated the cup in his hand.  She got to her feet noiselessly, and turned away from him, "Excuse me, your highness."  She was half way to the door when Van's voice caused her heart to beat just a little faster, as she halted.

          "Hitomi." Her name echoed in the hall.  She did not turn, but stood wishing with all her heart that he had not called her by that name.  That name, which meant 'iris', was a spell, one that could throw all her wits into the air.  "Go to the training ground after noon tomorrow. I'll be there with a few of my men who could use your expertise." He knew that the words were more demanding than he had wanted them to sound.  Van needed her to go there however for more reasons than he had shared.  He waited hopefully for her reply.  In his eyes was hidden the desperation he felt in wanting her to obey him.

          She pursed her lips in irritation then said with mocking grace, "As you will it, your highness."  As she left, incensed warmth flooded her.  _He's giving me orders now? Whatever happened to him knowing me so well? He said he knew me upon the first time we met! I was stupid to believe he knew anything of me- or my dreams!_

          "You're all a bunch of sissies! How could soldiers as seasoned as you end up with so many cuts?" Merle berated the room full of men as she pulled a bandage tight.  She cut the extra linen with a dagger, and then tucked the loose end into the wrap.  

          "Hey," Pile's nose wrinkled as he examined the wound on his shoulder, "You sure this is gonna stay?"

          "Well if you'd quit reopening the wound you wouldn't have to worry!" Merle snapped, her lip curling slightly to reveal a vicious looking tooth.  The men about the room laughed at this, teasing Pile unmercilessly for being scolded by the young woman.  Their ribald jokes and booming voices seemed odd in the grandeur of Apollo's temple.  

The colorful floor tiles forming a mosaic of Apollo and his acolytes sailing the heavens in a chariot were speckled with blood, however.  The sailors of the Crusade and a few others of the Fanelian Guard lounged upon the marble steps up to the altar on dirty pallets and blankets.  Some sat in the corners on pillows normally used for the practitioners who dutifully kneeled, now their silken cloths dirtied and stinking of sweat and other more putrid smells.  All the expensive trinkets, and jeweled decorations had been taken from the temple before the men had stationed there to be treated.  

The barracks at the palace, where they had stayed were full of the injured.  Any temple standing was being used as a medical station, and temporary housing for those that had lost their homes.  The crew of the Crusade had opted to stay near the palace and was given the temple as their outpost.

Merle shot back at the smug remarks and comments the men called at her as she walked past, headed for the inner courtyard.  She stepped out into the breeze through two columns.  Blinded for a moment she stopped on the top step leading down around the pool of lotuses.  The scent of the wind was a relief, no longer so tainted by the smell of the depressing aftermath of battle.  She could feel that the energy of the port city had replenished itself.  Indeed she realized that the strength had never been lost.  The pride of the Alexandrian people was a thick blanket coating the city with impenetrable solidity.  Nothing could change the fact that it was the greatest city in the world, a perfect diamond in the rough.  Merle let out a sigh as she stepped down and took a seat on the polished floor.  The secluded courtyard was located in the very center of the main temple building.  It was cool despite the natural warmth Merle had come to expect in this country embraced by the sun god.  She stared down at the pond a stair and a few steps below.  There was little view of the water beneath the white flowers and their leaves laying docilely on the surface.  Occasionally the girl caught a flash of silvery scales as the carp glided through the water brought from Egypt's mother river.  Glad to be away from all the masculine company she was so accustomed to, she allowed herself a few girlish thoughts.  

_They're so white, just like everything else. I've never seen these anywhere else. But I smell them everywhere. The people here sure love the_ _things!_  She smiled, getting to her feet in one sleek move.

"I want to take one home," She said to no one, walking down to the edge of the pool.  On her hands and knees she scanned the flowerbed for a particularly attractive specimen.  She was in luck for there was a younger bloom two feet in front of her.  

Folding the fingers of one hand over the edge she leaned forward stretching for the blossom.  It was just out of reach and she had to pull back as she started to teeter too close to the flowers in front of her.  She sat back against her calves sliding her tongue along her upper teeth considering a less dangerous way of obtaining the single lotus.  Her pupils grew small then large in less than a second, and she jumped to her toes ready to pounce on the intruder.  She had expected a priest, but instead the very opposite of a holy man stood across the pond.  He smiled at her, the sun disc caressing him with adoring fingers to enhance his dashing good looks.  She frowned into the blue eyes, hating that she had not heard his footfalls.  

_Bastard never makes a sound._  He could feel her distaste, his blue eyes flickering with mirth.  However he knew she did not dislike him so much.

"You've finished abusing the men with your medicine, I see. Or did they grow tired of the royal tongue lashing you administered along with your herbs, and finally throw you out?" Allen teased her lightly.  The scowl in response was enough to make him grin, but he didn't dare.  One wrong comment that pushed her patience to nonexistent would send her storming out.

"Why ask, commander, you know I won't give you the privilege of replying to that," She folded her arms over her stomach with an unpleasant smile, "You're such a fool for a knight." Merle tossed a devilish grin his way, pleased with herself.  Pivoting with the elegance of a dancer she hopped back up the steps, sitting again at the top.  She made a show of tossing her braid over her shoulder stretching her arms gracefully over her head.  She yawned, pretending to not even notice him still standing the distance of the lotus pool opposite her.  

"Well," Allen said conversationally, resting his hand casually on the hilt of his sword, "I suppose there's no need to be polite to a girl who's far from a lady."  He was looking through the columns to the walkway leading back into the sanctuary, watching her out of the corner of his secretive eyes.  He could not keep his eyes from darting to her face as she tossed her head back and laughed.  The courtyard sang with her laughter, not disturbing the serenity, but somehow emphasizing the beauty of its pure white floors and pillared walks.  Quickly he trained his eyes on the pond frowning at it as though disturbed by the sudden sound.  _Only a woman laughs like that_.  He smiled at that with a humored huff.

"Of course not! And I'm so-o-o-o-o glad! I couldn't be Prince Van's aid if I were a lady. I plan to never leave his service, so therefore I have no intention of ever being a lady." She returned cheerfully, loosely hugging her knees to her chest.  Merle admired her pond treasure thoughtfully, when she was struck by a shocking notion.  

_I suppose the Knight of Caeli doesn't care much for women who don't have manners though… But I don't want to be a lady… Which means he wouldn't…_  She urgently shook the thought away, her eyes wide with a jolting panic.  She knew it had shown on her face and she willed the blush spreading in her cheeks to halt.  The captain wondered about the look he'd seen upon her face, but he knew there was no figuring the girl.

"Really?" He was slowly strolling around the perimeter of the pond toward her, "And you think if you became a lady Van would not want you as his companion?"  He stopped fixing her with a thoughtful gaze.  She was standing once more with her swift cat's grace.

Her eyes snapping with heat she glared at him, "That is **_not_** it! Being so meek and respectful is sickening! I want nothing to do with what only gives women a reputation of being dogs- to be man's best friend and trained to be his house maid!"  Each word was pronounced precisely and with a deliberate bite.  Even though she was being so indignant it was still charming the way her lips pouted as her tail twitched slightly with agitation.  A smile spread on Allen's face as he looked at her, but faded as her words came back to him.

"Is that what you think? That a lady is looked at as only a pet?" He questioned his eyebrows raised in mild disbelief of her words.  She said nothing, taken back by the denial in his eyes.  He shook his head as though reprimanding her quietly, dropping his eyes to the ground, "There is no excuse for a man that thinks like that."  He looked up at her again, his jaw set in seriousness.  His blue eyes seemed to be mixed with gray suddenly, and looked darker.  He spoke with sincerity, his eyes holding no trace of deceit, "Whether a woman is a lady or not she is never just something to be mastered. No. I would never treat any woman as though she were a-a- **_dog_**. It's an uncultured idea for men who are cowardly and have no sense... I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I do not think that way."  Merle let out a breath as though she'd been holding it.  The peace was unbroken, though, for her eyes would not leave his face.  All was lost in those seconds after he said those words.  Nothing but this bright second when all was still, and hushed took hold of everything.  The two were outlined in light as though they were a part of it.  And they stared at one another, allowing everything to fade out around them.  It was a silence in which understanding passed between them without interruption.  It was a beginning.  However it would be a long road to all that lies in between a beginning and an end.  But it was a start.

*Just to be consistent with the factual information, I should mention that the Alexandrian War was not won as quickly as I wrote it. In actuality it took a little over six months. And most of those months, Caesar was trapped in the palace. Pothinus had called on Alexandria's reserves, not long after the first meeting with Caesar. He and a general name Achilles marched the army into Alexandria and immediately lay siege to the palace. Caesar had to fight his way out of the palace before the war really turned in his favor. Now I've read different accounts of the battle so bear w/ me. Some believe that Caesar unsuccessfully tried to take the Pharos, while others are certain that he did.  In my opinion he must have, because Alexandria's harbor was very important to both sides, and without securing it the battle would've gone on for a lot longer. Not to mention the fact that Caesar ordered the Alexandrian fleet burned, and to do this one would have to know the lay of the harbor and the battle statistics. And what better place to survey the battle then from the highest point- the lighthouse on the Pharos (which by the way if I haven't already mentioned it, was a wonder of the world).  The Alexandrian battle is one of Caesar's most famous because of the odds against him.

*Questions, and/or comments? Anybody completely lost? Email me, and I'll get ya up to speed.

Email: Arsinoe9@aol.com   


	17. Glimpses of Horus and Set

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

          The laughter was welcomed in the chamber.  After all, when a room has been so long without cheer it becomes stark and closed to those who enter.  But now the room was open and a place of beauty, like all the lavish spaces of the palace.  

However, Sitiah's dressing room was a mass of colorful silk confusion.  Gowns, sheaths, cloaks, and wraps of every fabric lay draped over the couches, benches, and stools like wilting flowers.  Some held memories of banquets and audiences with court officials, while others were new and waiting to be infused with a queen's personal reflection.  Chests of ebony, sandalwood, gold, silver, electrum, and other precious woods and metals were scattered upon the floor weighted with jewelry and trinkets.  The containers themselves were worth small fortunes, and immensely more because of what they held.  Smaller boxes of the same kind of wealth sat on the furniture that was left unveiled by the queen's clothing.  The chamber was almost blinding with its vast shimmer of insurmountable riches.

"You really haven't changed then, you're still a brat, your majesty," Isadora grinned playfully as she folded another wrap over her arm.  Sitiah shot her a smirk, and then raised her chin haughtily.

"Perhaps, but I'm a queen now, not a princess," She remarked holding up yet another shawl, this one of transparent ruby.  

"Which makes you all the more dangerous!" The Prophetess reminded her in a lighthearted tone.  Sitiah laughed richly, her voice resounding against the walls.

"Mmm," She hummed with a devious smile, "What would a woman be without that element?"

"Boring." Miles commented from his place in the opening between bedchamber, and dressing room.  He leaned his back against a side frame of the entryway, his arms folded over his belly watching the two with a lazy smile.

"Such a smart young man, it's a wonder he's not bedding with some pretty servant girl," Sitiah purred, smiling secretively over her shoulder at the guard.  She turned back to the task at hand and picked up another linen from the trunk she kneeled in front of.  Picturing the rosy color springing to her handmaiden's cheeks broadened her wicked smile.

"Hmph," He snorted rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, "There's hardly time, majesty. What with keeping you and your Prophetess from running head long into a den of assassins."  He knew she was teasing him, as well as returning the favor for Isadora's jokes.

Her eyes trained on his face again, her eyebrows winging upward she wondered, "Are you implying that Isadora and I are reckless, Miles?"

"I'd hardly go running head long into anything!" Isadora cried in disgust, frowning at him indignantly.

Miles laughed at the look and nodded, "Indeed, my lady, I'm saying exactly that!" His even white teeth flashed perfectly with youthful arrogance.

Sitiah gasped in fake shock, "By Set! You impertinent boy!" She looked away from him in exasperation.  With queenly seriousness she said, "You'll be executed at the next sunrise."

"I'll have a scribe commit it to a scroll, my queen." Isadora smiled smugly at him.

"You're not serious, Sister!" Ptolemy's dark eyes were wide with horror.  

Miles suddenly stood at attention in the presence of the *Horus-in-the-Nest.  The boy's mannered, almost girlish voice had startled the three.  Isadora was standing with her mouth open in surprise.  Sitiah had risen to her feet and faced the prince and his small entourage, all hint of softness gone from her features.  She narrowed her eyes studying him closely; she'd seen little of him since his birth.

He was an insufferable child to her.  A boy of ten years with liquid brown eyes, a small nose, almost full lips a ruddy pink in color, and unpronounced jaw.  He was short for his age, but had a sturdy frame.  He was slim, what was left of his baby fat made him seem healthy enough.  His skin almost gave him the appearance of a native of The Two Lands.  But, he had too many Greek characteristics.  His eyes reminded the queen of her father.  But she refused to let that become a weakness; she could not grow attached to this half-brother.  She quickly reminded herself that this boy could very well become a bitter enemy, a rival for the leadership of Egypt.  

"Prince Ptolemy," Sitiah finally acknowledged him tonelessly, inclining her head only slightly.

"Greetings, my sister, Queen Sitiah, beloved of Isis," He bowed formally to her.  The maids and guard at his side made obeisance to her, as protocol demanded.  He looked up at her nervously, and started uncertainly, "I'm pleased to-"

The queen interrupted tersely, "You have accompanied the prince, leave."  She watched impassively as Ptolemy swallowed his eyes flitting to his nursemaid and then lingered on his bodyguard.  The old nurse glanced at him meaningfully after having bowed down again.  The woman left, but the soldier at his side hesitated.

"Your majesty," He went down on his knees again giving the traditional bow, and then got to his feet, "Please, permit me to stay. I mean no offense, but for security-"

"Indeed you **_have_** given offense to your queen," Sitiah snapped, her eyes narrowing, she went on in an even tone, "But I shall allow you to stay. Question me again and my own guards will drag you out and have you punished on the training grounds."  Isadora flinched suddenly.

_Oh no! Van! It's a half hour after noon!_  She stiffened, and fretfully looked at the queen.  She knew she could not leave the woman at such an important meeting.  Luckily she had told Sitiah, and the queen had noticed her distress.

"Send for wine and fruit, Isadora." Sitiah ordered quietly.  As Isadora bowed on the floor, the queen glanced down at her quickly.  Understanding the silent message, the handmaiden rose and after nodding at Ptolemy, took her leave.  The boy took note of how the Prophetess did not give him the proper respect, and frowned.  Sitiah's lips twitched, threatening to spread into a gloating smile, but she restrained herself.  The lack of respect her servants paid the young prince was of course on purpose.  It was the queen's intention to prove her superiority, the place she held above him.  She wanted the boy to know that whether he was king or not it was she that held the authority.

Isadora, outside the room, sent a woman for the food and wine the queen had requested.  She sent another servant to fetch her scribe.  When he arrived and had bowed to her she quickly dictated a message to the Fanelian Prince to inform him that she would be late to meet him and that she was sorry.  

_Sorry? Am I really sorry I'm not following his orders?_  She stopped speaking, brooding with a frown.  _But I did want to see him… I still want to ask him how it is he knows me… Not that I really care, it's probably some nonsense he spurts to all the women to get them into his bed! Royal men are all the same! Gods, he is scum!_

"Shall that be all?" Nefer asked unassumingly, looking up from the palette on his knee.  She started at his voice her eyes falling on his folded figure on the floor.  The beauty of her eyes, like the green of palm leaves, astonished him so that he dropped his brush to the floor.  He flushed and picked it up briskly, reprimanding himself sternly.  Scribes were to be unobtrusive, quiet and proper in all respects.

"Yes," Isadora nodded, not noting the man's sudden clumsiness, "I'm sorry."  She was herself feeling like a fool for letting her mind slip.  But in those days it was unnervingly easy to let her thoughts wander to the Prince, speculating about his own mind.  The scribe placed her titles at the bottom and looked up at her.

She smiled at him, "That is all, thank you, Nefer."  He gathered his things and got to his feet.  

He bowed, "It's always an honor, Lady Isadora."  He returned the smile.  She gave a dismissive nod, and he was off to find a courier.  She stood for a moment, just enjoying the silence, then turned back to the room and entered quietly.

"Damn!" Dilandau screamed for about the fiftieth time that morning.  The cut on his arm gushed with life fluid again and he clenched his teeth closing his eyes with a curious pleasure.  Chesta cringed looking away as he rubbed the arm at his side with a nervous motion.  He hated when his general took it upon himself to injure his own body.  Dilandau's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the slit he'd made in his lower bicep.

Folken had made it through the battle, a most unfortunate blow to the young Albatou's ambitions.  If only he had sent more assassins… Hiring mercenaries in the nearby nations would've been a simple task, and sending them to Alexandria with orders to enter the fray to kill the emperor and his brother, would've been smooth.  But the young man had been convinced that the clash would be enough to finish off the Strategos without the added attention.  

_Damn!_ He reprimanded himself yet again. _I could've taken him down so easily! Him and the god damn puppy! Where's my head? Of course I'd rather cut their throats out myself, but still, I could've done away with them without barely lifting a finger! Damn!   _

"Not deep enough." He muttered to himself taking the dagger in hand again.  Chesta's eyes widened in panic.

"Lord Dilandau- at least Lord Strategos has not come home." The Dragonslayer offered eagerly, hoping to snatch his boss' attention from the task the man had set himself.

The blade hovering over the bloody opening Dilandau looked up sharply, "What?"  The young man faltered under his scrutiny avoiding the deep wine-colored eyes.

"W-well- ugh- it's good that Strategos hasn't come back- ugh- isn't it? Cuz- uhhh- well that would be a mark against him. He- hasn't returned- so people might- think that he has improper reasons to stay-" He tried, rather uncertain of his reasons for bringing it up.  Dilandau's eyes were narrowing dangerously, as a low growl rumbled in his throat.  

His impatience was clear as he threatened, "**_Chesta_**, you're not making sense."  He sat back in his chair, slumping a bit as he watched the young man with an unflinching gaze.  The dagger clattered to the table at his right side as he waited in irritation.

The Dragonslayer swallowed and went on hopefully, "Strategos may not be dead as we had hoped, but he is not here either. Which means you have time to build stronger bonds with your supporters, and perhaps gain more allies. So- it's better that he remains in Alexandria, isn't it? When he's around he's more vigilant- the spies loyal to him are more plentiful. Perhaps it's also a sign that he is still having problems pleasing the citizens. Maybe there is still rebellion."  The young man watched as Dilandau's pensive expression darkened.  _Oh great, I said something wrong again…_

"You're half right, Chesta, but still," Dilandau got to his feet and paced toward the window, "Now that Pompey's been defeated it'll be hard to find men that so openly oppose Strategos' growing aspirations. Having him so far away from Fanelia, however, is a stroke of luck for us."  He smiled his cunning smile looking out toward the government offices.  His soldier sighed with relief from behind him, but he made no indication of having heard.  The young captain's eyes snapped with malicious intent one last time before he turned back.  

Folding his arms over his chest he glowered and leaned back, "Now that Sitiah's husband has been killed, what step must she take to keep hold of the leadership in Egypt?"

"I imagine she'll have to marry her younger brother, Ptolemy the fourteenth." Miguel replied easily from the leather armchair in front of his commander's desk.

          Dilandau nodded absently, "Egyptian tradition. An ingenious way to keep the same bloodline in power. Yes. And Strategos will stay to oversee the crowning… Damn, that's not enough time. He'll be returning within two or three months then."  He was fingering the cut on his arm, the blood coloring his fingertips red and seeping beneath his clawed nails.

          "That might be, Lord Dilandau, but our informants believe that he will be away for a greater amount of time than one would assume. Indeed, I agree with their hypothesis," Miguel smiled smoothly, his dark eyes shining with hidden knowledge, "After all, Folken Strategos has a new reason to be involved in Egyptian politics."  The captain's curiosity finally stirred, he looked directly at the Dragonslayer with smug anticipation.

          "Go on." He pressed his fingers into the gap with an eager smile.  The blood spurted to the surface so that it began to drip from his arm.

          Miguel gave a reverent nod and continued, "Sitiah… seems to have quite a way with words, so I hear. One of our men called her a 'snake charmer' when it comes to persuasion. I guess even Strategos is no match for this queen. It makes sense. Why else would he have delayed so long? I have it on good authority that she will try to convince him to stay some time after Ptolemy's coronation."  He watched as his superior's mouth twitched with obvious pleasure.  Dilandau's pupils became tiny black beads in oceans of magenta glee.  His head fell back as torrents of chilling laughter rang out in the hall.

          _Perfect! It's just the fuel I need! How exquisitely perfect for me!_

          "Finally!" He grinned, "Finally, Hell has taken over Heaven, and the world has been tipped upside down! You fool! Oh, Strategos, you wonderful idiot! Ha, ha! You've gone and fallen for a foreign whore! You've set yourself up for this one!"  The wine of life from his veins soaked his hand now.  Pumped with a wicked energy Dilandau glided from behind the desk toward Chesta.  Taking the unnerved boy's face in his hands he told him, "This is exactly what I've been waiting for! Strategos has lost all sense because of a woman! And wait, just wait till the news spreads here! Fanelia will be speechless!"  In a trance he took two slow steps away from Chesta, his hands falling from the man's face, leaving behind streaks of red on the white flesh.  The two Dragonslayers exchanged glances; it was hardly rare for them to witness their leader in completely maniacal abandon.  Neither was about to confess their personal doubts aloud.  Instead they remained silent, looking on as Dilandau licked his fingertips, slowly relishing the salty tang.  Oh yes.  Though, he might not be a legendary prophet, this young man could see the trouble that would come of Folken's 'lapse of sanity'.

          _That 'snake charmer' will be his downfall, and my ticket to ruling Gaea. _

*It's great that so many of you have some knowledge of the story! According to a lot of your reviews, your interest in this story is due to what you've learned! Very stellar! Thanks again for the reviews. It's amazing to get good feedback, and it does a lot to inspire a person. So thank you all somuch!

*Horus-in-the-Nest is a term used for the crown princes of Egypt. When a man or woman (remember there is evidence of a few female pharaohs) became king, they became identified with Horus, son of Isis and Osiris, and god of the skies.

*Also, remember I mentioned earlier that pharaoh is actually not the Egyptian term for the king? Pharaoh in fact comes from the bible. _Per-aa_ is the Egyptian name for the king, which means "great house" or "palace". 

I've been thinking about updating my Seducing Setesh fiction, which also takes place in Egypt. I thought at first that it might coincide too much w/ this fiction, but the more I look at the ideas I had for the two, the more I think I might've been wrong. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if those of you who do have an interest in Egyptology factors in this fiction, would take a look at Seducing Setesh and tell me what ya think.  It is rated R, and there's a reason for that, so it's not on the main pages.  But I'd be so grateful if some of you would check it out and review.  It's going to seem like the Cleo story at first, but it honestly takes a different direction. And the characters of Sitiah and Sanura (originally named Sitiah before I started this fiction) are meant to contrast. I'm really hoping that writing for Seducing Setesh will be a positive thing, so please do me a favor and check it out. Thanks again!                __


	18. Servants and Ladies

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

          She skirted a couple of men engaged in fierce combat, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt in the dusty training field.  Of course she'd been near the barracks before to care for soldiers with injuries or those who'd fallen ill.  But somehow it was different to be there in the presence of the Fanelian Prince.  He was silent as he walked a pace ahead of her, leading her towards the encampment of makeshift tents behind the regular soldiers' barracks.  He glanced back at her out of the corner of his eye to see that a match between Allen Schezar and one of the queen's guards captivated her.  He snorted at that, frowning sullenly.  The Knight of Caeli always seemed to cause a stir wherever he went.  Isadora slowed as she watched the swordsman block a swiping blow from a sharp edged scimitar.  He spun away to the left as another blade was immediately aimed at his side.  She was stunned by his agility when blocking the precarious weapons.  She was well aware of the damage the sickle sword could do having seen Egyptian soldiers training with them in that very courtyard on the palace grounds.

          "Hurry up!" Van's voice quickened her steps again.

          "I'm coming." She muttered under her breath.  Her attention was once again focused on the sandals upon her feet.  For the hundredth time she wondered why she had even agreed to the meeting.  He had other servants to order around, didn't he?  She sighed looking ahead again.  When Van stopped in front of her, she made certain to not bump into him.  She waited as he spoke to the guards outside the tent; doing her best to ignore the curious looks the foreign men eyed her with.

          Isadora fell into her work despite the fact that at first she was so furious she could barely care for any of the wounded men without bruising them further.  The girl apologized after the first couple times, reprimanding herself for letting the "brat prince" fluster her.  After that she devoted her thoughts to her tasks, barely sparing a moment to contemplate the patience the young man was trying.  Commanding her presence and then leaving her there by herself to care for his own men?  Indeed, he was pushing at her last nerve, and she vowed to make that quite clear when she was given a chance.

          A good two hours had passed before the opportunity arose, when he appeared at her side as she finished mixing a sleeping remedy.  Feeling his presence she merely glanced at him, before getting to her feet and handing the bowl in her hand to a man.

          "See that he is given this just before he sleeps, it should keep him from waking so often. Add only a pinch to a glass of wine, it's not a dangerous mixture, but still it's best if it's given in small doses," She informed the man, who nodded and took the offered bowl.  She turned to a priestess who held a bowl of water.  With a grateful smile she dipped her hands in the cool water, "That should be it for today, Neona, be sure that Korin's bandages are changed, and the poultice I made is reapplied. Thank you."  The woman smiled and responded, before handing the young woman a towel.  Isadora dried her hands and handed back the towel.  Reluctantly she turned to Van who'd stayed silent, only shifting when she had.

          Folding her arms across her chest unyieldingly she glared at him, "Is there anything **_else_** I can do for you, **_your highness_**?"  His expression puzzled her with its calmness as he studied her for a long moment.  She blinked looking away; it was all she could do to keep from fidgeting under his mysterious gaze.  

          "Yes," He finally said, his voice strangely quiet, "Come with me."  His back turned to her she frowned in confusion.  His eyes had been so still and clear, without any of the severe willfulness.

          Strange.  She followed him without protest, too tired to argue.  Indeed she barely noticed her environs as they stopped beneath a shady palm in the eastern wing's garden.  

Isadora smiled a little as the breeze touched her nose.  Van watched with interest, as she seemed to forget about his presence and wander toward the fountain.  Peering into the pool of tranquil water she was reminded of the last time she had spent a day lounging with her queen in that very garden.  Serenity washed over her as she sat down on the cool marble, trailing her fingertips across the surface of the water, causing her reflection to waver.  The whole sanctuary was steeped in late afternoon shadows, the sun half way hidden by the taller portions of the palace.  Closing her eyes the scents of lotus, persea, and lily, enfolding her, she allowed the tension to flow away.  

As she sat there, looking as natural and enchanting as her surroundings, the prince wondered at the magic that touched her.  It struck him that he had never believed in the supernatural until that moment, staring at her from beneath an Egyptian palm.  He reasoned that it could only be a type of magic that could leave him so speechless.  But then again he would've known it if she had woven a spell.  He hadn't lied to her when he had told her upon their first meeting that he was more in tune to things than one would think.  

          _No, no enchantments._  He thought as his eyes narrowed, studying the young woman's face.  _It's something else…_

          _"It's beauty."_  From nowhere the voice penetrated his thoughts, that voice that had been within him since he was a young boy, the one that guided him.

          His mind trained on that one voice; he no longer seemed a part of any reality.  _And what is that supposed to mean?_

          _"It means what it means.  It's beauty, pure and simple. No strings attached. See it for what it is, young prince."_

"Hmph," Van pushed the thoughts aside.  His gaze flashed to a servant waiting patiently on the path of shells to his right.  He acknowledged the man with a little nod, and then focused on the girl again.  "Hitomi, are you hungry?" He called to her.  Her head turned sharply as she opened her eyes to look at him.

          "My name is Isadora," She insisted, her lips forming an indignant pout.  Van only shrugged with boredom, his question standing.  Her frown deepened as she said slowly, "You shouldn't trouble yourself. I can always go to the kitchens when we're finished."

          "No trouble," He ignored her, glancing at the servant, "It doesn't much matter what it is, just find something, your choice."  The man, who Isadora recognized as one of the palace's many stewards, nodded in understanding.  He bowed to them and turned to slip from sight.  A few moments of silence followed his departure as Isadora made a conscious decision to force Van to recognize her as she wished.

          Looking at him sternly she stated, "**_My name_**, is Isadora,"

          "Yes, you said as much not long ago," Van sighed, nonchalantly leaning back against the tree trunk.  Mischief glinted in his eyes as he smiled at her, "Hitomi."  She made a disapproving noise and looked away.  Was he trying to bait her?

          "Well you obviously didn't understand," She mumbled grudgingly to herself, she frowned at him again, "What exactly did you want, your highness?"  This time he chose to pretend she hadn't spoken, instead of favoring her with an answer.

          "You seem to know medicines quite well, I suppose that's because you've spent so much time with the priestesses of Apollo," He mused aloud.  She meant to reprimand him for ignoring her, but she found herself shocked.

          Slowly she turned to him, her green eyes taking on a soft look, "How- do you know that?"  Her gentle tone had suddenly commanded his attention, and he found himself staring straight in those gems of emerald. 

          "I asked," Was his slightly husky answer.  Was his heart beating a little faster?  Shattered like the surf on the rocks, their moment's connection was broken as the steward returned followed by three other servants.  Obscured from his view by the men setting a low table on the lawn, Isadora blushed her hands flying to the necklace she wore.  She got to her feet watching as the table was set with several dishes of food, and cushions and pillows were placed around it on the ground.  

For the first time ever she began to feel incredibly out of place in the presence of one so royal.  As the servants retreated her eyes lingered on their slowly disappearing figures.  A part of her felt as though she were betraying those men, and all others like her that were employed by the queen.  Dining with royalty?  Servants did not do such things.  And she, she was a servant.

          "Is something wrong?" He asked, breaking her from her trance.  She looked down to see him sitting cross-legged on a pillow.  Avoiding his gaze she folded her hands together in front of her.

          "I- I was- well, perhaps you should dismiss me. Sitiah- might need me is all," She said quietly.  When she looked at him, he was studying her with an unreadable expression.  Blushing she explained, "I- just- I'm not used to any royalty- but my queen. I'm a servant."

          "Perhaps, but you have a title, don't you?" Van spoke casually as though they were making small talk.  Isadora bit her lip, and shrugged lightly.

          She chuckled softly, "I guess I've never thought about it."  Van gave her a quick smile, before he dropped his eyes to the table as he reached for a pomegranate.  

          As he pulled a dagger from his boot, and cut the fruit in half he said, "You've never used your title except around the palace, am I right? You've probably never taken any real liberties with it," He looked up stretching his arm out to offer half of the fruit to her.  "It seems to me that you just don't know the advantages of having a title… So you might as well start now, Lady Isadora."  She was speechless as she noticed the sudden shimmer of hope in his eyes.  It was so subtle, and yet almost too obvious to her.  For some reason the prince wanted her to stay.

          "I guess so," She replied, her voice barely more than a whisper as she slowly took the pomegranate from his hand.  Just the brush of his fingers was enough to make her heart shudder.  "Thank you." Isadora cupped the fruit in her hands as though he had given her a diamond.  He nodded, an amused smile quirking his boyish features.  She couldn't help but to laugh a bit as she finally sank down on the pillows across from him.

          "How are the families who lost their homes holding up?" Sitiah asked as she watched Ramses strut across her desk.

          "They're tired of being in such close quarters, my lady, but other than that they seem to be getting along. The repairs are going well, it should be about a week before we can move some of them to new homes," Setepenre replied gazing over the scroll in his hands before rolling it up again.

          "The grain rations are still holding out?" She looked at him with a meaningful raise of her eyebrows.

          "For now, your majesty," He said equally serious.  She frowned as she rose to her feet, picking up the cat sitting on her desk.  Ramses settled into her arms comfortably as she scratched his ears.  She sighed looking down into the golden eyes.  

          "The battle so close to the famine has cut our reserves. We'll have to find a way to stretch the grain until the next harvest," She shook her head remorsefully.  Her eyes narrowed as she muttered to herself, "War is so worthless. Just like family."  Setepenre took a breath as though to speak, but then stayed silent, unsure of himself.  "Yes, general?" Sitiah looked at him with a knowing smile.  He shook his head with a small smile.  But soon he was perfectly grave again.  

          "Forgive me if this is out of turn, your majesty, but I feel a great conviction about mentioning that the exports to Fanelia are harming our economy. With the troubles that have plagued Egypt as of recent, I think it best if you leave off sending more grain to Fanelia for awhile." Setepenre watched her carefully.  He was never one to hesitate in the presence of royalty.  And it was not out of humility that he gauged her reaction so closely.  He was not afraid of a reprimand.  But he'd known Sitiah since she was a child, and was well aware of her sometimes-rash nature.  She turned away from him to the wall, where a scene of the Nile was painted in light hues.  

          "You know that I value your opinion, General, and I thank you for your honesty," She slowly turned to him with a fond smile, "It's nice to have someone like you around who does not mince words," Her smile faded as she went on solemnly, "Since my father died, there have been very few men whom I can count on… I've considered the issue of the grain as well. And you're precisely right. We cannot ignore Egypt's plight…" Glancing at the scribe on the floor she continued, "Take this down Hadar… No more exports of grain will be sent to Fanelia until the time after our next successful harvest."  The scribe took down her words, with quick smooth movements.  When he looked up at her, a trace of greater admiration shone within his eyes.

          "That's not a very wise decision to make without my approval, Queen Sitiah," He glared at her from the doorway.  She felt his stare before she had glimpsed his face.  But relaxed as always she smiled prettily.

          "Good afternoon, Lord Strategos, your presence, as usual is unexpected," She replied warmly.  Glancing at Setepenre she said more quietly, "Thank you, General, I'll speak again with you later," Then looking to the scribe she smiled, "Hadar, have the scroll committed to our records, thank you."  The general bowed at the waist, as the scribe pressed his forehead to the floor.  Setepenre caught the gleam in his queen's eyes before he turned and walked from the room.  It meant that another battle was about to take place.

*Just thought I'd let you all know I have a knew email address:  ArsinoeIX@aol.com

Okay, so there's no big change to it but I had problems with my last account so…  Anyway, I'd like to make you aware that I just posted a new fiction call _Chi-Town Nights_.  I've been really inspired in that area of writing, so do me a favor and check it out.  I'd be so grateful!  And also I hate to repeat myself, but please take a look at Seducing Setesh, because it takes a different direction.  It looks at Egypt in the New Kingdom Era, when the country was still under Egyptian control.  Please, just take some time to look at it and review!  Thanks!             


	19. Destined to Fight

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

          As Sitiah's general left one glance into the man's eyes assured Folken that he did not approve of the contact the queen had with himself.  It was etched in the frown on Setepenre's face.  As they caught one another's gaze for that passing moment, a kind of understanding was reached.  Neither of them cared much for the other's relationship with Sitiah, but both held an equal amount of care for her.  They were both unceremoniously protective of her.  Strategos found this amusing, while Setepenre found it to be surprising.  Neither of course showed any sign of the emotions, and in a moment it was forgotten as the general continued into the hallway.

          When the scribe had left as well, he shook his head, "What possessed you to do something so foolish?"  She looked away from him defiantly.

          "So it is foolish to do things for the good of my country?" She asked her tone still light.  Picking up a scroll from her desk she moved toward him, holding up the scroll, "This is the twentieth petition I've received, begging me to think of the peoples' need for the grain that is being exported to Fanelia." Stopping in front of him, she somberly looked up into his eyes, "Am I queen so that I can give you whatever you'd like from Egypt? Or is it because I can make the decisions necessary for this country to survive?"  There was nothing of the playful young woman in this queen.  Her business-like demeanor was yet another reminder to him that she was more than meets the eye.  He wondered at her for a time.  At first he had thought that she would be easy to control, but she'd proven him wrong.  He wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or something to worry over.

          He put his fist beneath her chin and replied, "Sometimes I forget why I did choose you."  Surprising him she laughed pushing his hand away.  She turned from him, taking a few steps away.  Smiling with pure wickedness she looked over her shoulder at him.

          "And I thought I was confident!" She sauntered toward her desk, and took a seat in the chair behind it, setting the scroll down.  Shaking her head slowly she said coldly, "You did not choose me. The gods did… I rule by divine right."  Her beauty was a danger, he realized as he stared at her.  There was something very alluring about her at that moment.  But the air around her was chilling.  She was no longer dependent on him, and he knew it.  His eyes narrowed at the thought.

          "And your brother? What is he?" He folded his arms over his chest as though shielding himself from her.  There was nothing about him to suggest that he was afraid of her new found confidence, but it was apparent that he disliked the idea.

          "A mere consort," She shrugged nonchalantly, "He has no real power. He may be a king, but he can do little for this land. I hold the reins of government."  Her kohl-lined eyes were impassive.  Everything about her exuded femininity and peril that sent a warning.  A combination that he was sure led to more trouble than it did moments of blissful abandon.  She sat like a queen, as well as spoke like one, and yet there was something in her eyes that spoke of childish insecurity.

          "I see, that's why you spoke to him today. To intimidate him," He stated simply, dropping his eyes to the floor with a small smile of pride, "Very good. A move worthy of myself." He looked up at her.

          "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "How happy I am to have met with your approval," Sitiah smirked, and then glowered at him, "If you're so interested in making sure I keep my family under my thumb, then why is Arsinoe alive?"

          "You're not suggesting you'd rather have her dead, like poor Ptolemy, are you?" He mocked her lightly.

          She laughed, "What do you think?"  Glaring at him she got to her feet fingering the gold wedjet around her neck, "That bitch betrayed me. Her only desire was to be queen, to have the treasury at her hand. It was stupid of her to think she could win against me."  He closed his eyes a moment, and then opened them to see that she had approached him.  Looking at her face, he almost began to pity her, seeing the miserable look that had replaced the aloofness.  "None of this matters now, does it?" She asked softly, her eyes on the tiles beneath her feet.

          "You seem to think so. You brought up Arsinoe, not I," Folken said in a distant voice.  Suddenly, Sitiah felt like a little girl again, standing before her father as he told her that Berenice would die for her crimes.  She could remember the feelings of conflict looming within her mind.  Did her elder sister really deserve death?  Perhaps she did, after all, she had tried to usurp her father's throne. And she would have killed him.  But still she was her sister!  Her heart clenched and she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

          "What will you do with her then?" She forced herself to look up at him.  But he could see that the hatred she felt was causing her doubt.  It was the sheen of a tear within her eye.  

          "She'll be taken to Fanelia, as a prisoner… And executed," He said, watching her closely.  The sharp intake of her breath was not as quiet as she would've liked.  Folken closed the gap between them slowly.  His hand went to her cheek and stayed there.  "This is what you want, isn't it?" His eyes searched her face.  The weakness was there, but she quickly hid it.

          "Just because we're blood, doesn't mean she is worthy of my pity," She said sternly, refusing to let her real emotions get the best of her.  But her blood wanted to betray her.  For some reason it was calling for her mercy, and she knew she wouldn't always be able to ignore it.  

She quickly changed the subject, smiling disarmingly, "Do you know where my Prophetess is right now?"

          He kissed her forehead, seeming to forget as easily as she, "Where?"

          "With your handsome young brother," She replied putting both hands on his chest.

          "Ah, so that's what's had him so distracted lately," He mused with a curious smile, "She must be very- unusual."

          "No, no, not- unusual- more like- captivating," Sitiah looked up at him through her lashes, her voice no more than a low purr, "A favorite of the goddess," Her nails sank into the fabric of his shirt as she tugged at it as she sucked gently at her lower lip.  "Your brother is very lucky… At one time some priestesses remained celibate."  She was doing it again, making him yearn for heated embraces in the cool of night.  His hand traveled from her face down to her neck.  

          As his fingers massaged at the back of her neck she murmured tenderly, "I need to travel my kingdom. I want you with me. We will sail the Nile together."  His hand stilled, as a strong current of foreboding swept through him, leaving a deep frown on his face.  Her own instincts alerted her to the change in his mood.  Before she could put up her defenses she blurted despondently, "You're thinking of leaving again?"  She couldn't easily mask her hurt this time, so instead she began to turn away.  

He halted her taking her arms.  But she turned her head away, wishing he had not already seen the broken look in her eyes.  She swallowed hard waiting for him to respond.  Instead he released her, his carnelian-brown eyes falling to the gold symbol lying on the dune-colored skin just above her breasts.  He picked up the charm, holding it in one hand as he traced it with the other.  His unruffled manner spoke nothing of his love for the sight of the rise and fall of her chest.  Yes, he had noticed how her breath had quickened as his hand brushed her flesh.  He smiled, indulging in her suddenly very obvious attraction to him.

          "There is so much more of Egypt to see," He said, staring at the necklace.  His head lifted slightly as he looked at her with a sly smile, "Isn't there, Queen Sitiah?"  _So you are not the only one with power…_ _Strategos has a hand to play in this as well._  The spark of deviousness in his eye intrigued her.  She cocked her head slightly to smile at him cautiously.

          "Mmm," She hummed in agreement, "There is much more to see. You have barely begun to see the marvel that is Egypt… I think, she will blind you so that you will see nothing else, but her beauty."  _She has more surprises for you, dear Strategos._  Her sultry tone had been like silk, floating against his skin.  He felt the caress, and the blade's edge of her words.  And as their gazes locked, neither escaped the intensity of the other's eyes.  The connection that had caught their attention from their first moment together was just as strong.  He knew, that she had not been fooled by his surrender.    
She could sense the plan beneath his veil of kindness.  She couldn't quite read the true reasons, but she knew the victory was not entirely hers.

                                                ***

          "Daughter of Isis," She whispered, her eyes intent on the priest before her.  The memory of a dream floated to the surface of her mind.  But she had only been a child when she had dreamed of the goddess.  Could it be?

          "Yes, practically a goddess yourself," The man replied, his eyes so dark they seemed to go on into nothingness like the night sky.  He pointed again to the mural on the wall.  Isis in all her glory stood there, wings outstretched as she stared upward toward the heavens.  Her beauty was startling, for she embodied all that was apart of Ma'at.  She was every goddess, *Hathor, *Sekhmet, *Nut…  Isis was the divine aspect of all women, the great mother of Egypt.  

"She will give you the power you need to conquer all obstacles, and save Egypt from the hands of Strategos." He said turning to fix her with his intense gaze.  He was only a priest, clothed in white, his head shaved.  But he seemed infinitely more with his soulless eyes.  Yet he maintained the quality of a servant, a devoted follower.

          "From Strategos?" She slowly asked her eyebrows drawn in worry beneath the cobra coronet.  Suddenly she could hear her heartbeat and every breath she took.  

          "You know, young goddess," He seemed to grow taller before her eyes, looming over her with his pale face, "You know very well the danger he poses!"  She gasped at the hiss in his sharp voice.  She took a step away holding her aching chest.  But the man before her was calm, his eyes were not black, but blue.

          "My queen? Are you alright?" The priest asked, his voice gentle and full of concern.  Sitiah blinked and looked up to see the man frowning at her.  There was no threat in his eyes, or in his manner.  He was only a middle-aged man, a member of the priesthood serving in Isis' temple.  She took a deep breath, and shook her head.

          "Yes, fine, I suppose I'm just a little tired." She gave a quick smile.

          As she walked beneath the pylon into the courtyard she sighed with relief.  The sun shone down on her with loving rays, lighting her face.  She shaded her eyes, beneath her hand.  A white ostrich fan appeared over her, shadowing her from the brilliance of the mid-morning blaze.  Her heart felt light, taken by the gentle breeze blowing through the columns of the courtyard.  

But abruptly the wind became stronger, the sun hidden by dark clouds that appeared out of nowhere.  Her entourage became panicked as the wind kicked up sand and blew with a force that pushed at their bodies.  The line of priests, priestesses, and servants behind her, scattered screaming and shouting unintelligibly.  They seemed to forget all about their duty to her as she stood against the pummeling wind trying to shield her eyes with her arms.

          A priestess ran past her screeching, "It's Strategos! It's the horrible conqueror! Run! Egypt is being swallowed!"  Sitiah couldn't believe her ears.  She tried shouting that it was not he doing this, and that he would not betray her, but her cries were lost in the storm.  Unable to see to her right or left she stumbled blindly in the courtyard searching desperately for shelter.  The tumult was becoming more than she could bare as the screaming reached a piercing climax and the wails of women and children began.  

          "Save us goddess! Save us Queen Sitiah, it is Strategos!" They all seemed to be crying.  The sand stinging her eyes, her tears flowed as she felt her heart constricting with pain.

          "Stop this! Stop, please! No more!" She pleaded falling to her knees as the stabbing hurt grew.  Her eyes shut tight against the anguish, she began to choke as the air thickened with smoke.  Smoke poured from everywhere, mingling with the sand and tormented moans in the air.  The pungent smell of blood, and burning bodies assaulted her nose as she pressed her face to the earth.  How had this happened?  What could've spurred this disaster? 

"Isis, Isis, if you can hear me, please help! Please my mother, help me!" She whispered fervently.  There was a flash in the space around her; even with her eyes closed she could see it.  She opened her eyes to the bright white light.  Squinting her eyes she could make out a figure.  It was the goddess.  Her mother stood before her eyes, a warm smile gracing her delicate features.  Untouched by the chaos going on around her she reached out toward the queen.  Sitiah stretched out her hand.  But she could not reach.  Isis, her savior was a step away, but still she could not grab onto the offered hand.  

          The woman smiled, her hand dropping to her side, as she shook her head remorsefully, "Oh Sitiah, my daughter, Egypt is lost. Strategos' has corrupted this land. Egypt is no more."  Sitiah's eyes went wide, as her body began to tremble.  It couldn't be!  She wanted to refuse the words, but in her heart she knew the goddess did not lie.

          "No. No, please. Isis, you can save her! Please, save your land! Save- my land!" She cried out, her eyes watering again, this time because of the immense sadness filling her.  But the goddess again shook her head.

          Her soft voice replied, "Egypt is no more."

          The queen woke to feel the tears on her cheeks.  Shivers ran up and down her spine as her heart shook within her breast.  The sheets clutched in her hands, she buried her face in them shaking her head.  _No. No. It was all a dream. Those images- they had to have been a dream. It's not the future. It cannot be. _ Over and over she denied the doubts springing to her mind.  _None of it was true! I would not let it happen! _

Her eyes opened to scan the room beyond the mosquito netting around the bed.  The Nile's waves lapping at the bank had a soothing affect, but still she felt drained by all she had seen.  Her gaze came to rest on the man sleeping next to her.  To her despair an irrational fear clawed at the edges of her thought.  She took a wavering breath, biting her lip as she stared at his face.  

A slumbering man posed no threat, she was almost positive of that, yet she was shaken.  Of course Folken was no ordinary man.  He most likely drew up his battle plans within the dream world, ready at any moment to come alive and order an attack.  Nevertheless, as all men, he looked innocent in his sleep, calm and boyish.  At any other time she would think him beautiful as he breathed in the cool night air.  Often she would wake, sit up, and smile on him, watching as he dreamed.  It wasn't unusual for a young lover to do such a thing.  But she had never imagined that she would ever look upon a man with such love.

The problem was that she wasn't always certain he felt the same.  Could her doubts be warning her of the truth of her vision?  All of a sudden her whole body began to ache, and she began to weep.  The pitiful cry reached Folken's ears tearing him from the foggy battlefield.  His sepia eyes fluttered open as he frowned.  

          "Sitiah?" He questioned wearily, slowly sitting up.  His lids were heavy, but he could clearly see her shivering form.  He knew she hated to cry in front of him- him and anyone else for that matter.  It was a weakness she couldn't tolerate in herself.  It was more than obvious that something dubious was troubling the woman for her to be sobbing so.  His hand came to rest on her bare shoulder, but she flinched away, holding the wine colored silk to her chest.  Her hysteria had even brought the guards to the doors of their cabin.

          "My lady, queen?" A man's voice penetrated through the gold encased panels.  Through her tears she ordered the men away in halting Egyptian.  Her speech was normally better than that and the soldiers hesitated for several moments before slowly wandering back to their posts.  Folken was at a complete loss.  He slipped his arm around her back, his hand squeezing lightly on her upper arm.

          "You're very cold," He observed drawing her against his chest.  Indeed the warmth had fled her body, leaving her chilly to the touch.  Kissing her head he tried turning her towards him.  But she pulled away, scolding him in the language of her subjects.  He sighed in frustration, leaving her be as he shook his head in bewilderment.  

"Sitiah, I don't speak Egyptian. And my Greek is hardly ideal. Tell me in Fanelian, what is wrong?" He brought his hand over his eyes for a moment then dropped it to his knee.  For a moment she seemed confused and began to reply in a language neither Greek nor Egyptian.  But she paused inhaling deeply as she sniffed.

          Finally she looked at him, the salt water glimmering in her eyes desolately, "You have no patience for me, Strategos. Isn't it true?"  Taken back by her words he stared at her for a long time.  He looked slightly wounded, hurt by the accusation.  Affection was not something he displayed with ease.  But in their months together he had shown more care for her than he ever had to anyone he held dear.  Even as he sat there it was hard not to coldly rebuke her.  His ego had been slowly depleting with everyday that he felt her warmth.  Still, she had not broken all barriers, and in truth she never would, but she would come damn close.  

          "What is it you're really asking me?" He questioned, his eyes taking hold of hers mercilessly.  There was no means by which she could look away.  Two heavy tears slowly coursed their way down her cheeks as she shook her head.

          "I don't know," She whispered, closing her eyes for a second.  When she looked at him again she murmured, "I'm sorry," She gave him a tremulous smile, "It's late. Let's not start an argument tonight, hmm?"  With a forced laugh she leaned toward him, placing a hand on his cheek.  "Besides, I'd win, wouldn't I?" She teased pressing her forehead to his, her lips inches from his own.  His eyes narrowed, but he smirked with a chuckle.

          "I imagine you would, my queen," He replied quietly.  Her hand fell to his chest as she began to circle his muscles with feathery fingertips.  She pulled her head away to fix him with a haughty smile.

          "Your queen indeed! The great conqueror grovels at my feet…" She linked her hands behind his neck.  He moved closer to her with a smile, placing his hand on her side.

          "I grovel to no one," He responded firmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.  She only smiled, knowing what the look meant.

          "Ah, then I submit to you," Sitiah spoke softly as she laid her head on his shoulder, her breath caressing his neck, "The queen is yours."  Her scent was filling his whole being, enchanting him as her words did.  Pulling her into his lap he noticed the sudden warmth to her flesh.  

The aura surrounding them was made of golden clouds, the breath of the gods.  Hathor's blessing was on them.  And when a goddess blesses the bed of lovers, the feelings of tenderness wash over everything.  Lovers not yet established could even feel the great magic collecting.  It was thick in the air.  Strategos and Sitiah were truly **_destined_**.  But destiny is fickle, shrouding people with uncertainties that can tear apart even the fated ones.  Within his arms, she could still sense the spires of doubt, haunting the deepest reaches of her heart.

*Sekhmet is a lion-headed goddess associated with destruction. Her fiery breath was turned on the enemies of the king. She could send pestilence or cure it. 

*Nut was the goddess of the night sky. She was often seen stretched over the land of Egypt, or men, with stars.

*Hathor or Het-Hert in Egyptian is the goddess of love, fertility, marriage, and beauty. She was normally portrayed as a cow, or a woman with bovine horns. In fact it is the temple of Hathor at Dendara that depicts Cleopatra and her son Caesarion in Egyptian royal dress. The goddess was also identified with birth, and had two royal birthing houses in her temple complex at Dendara. The reliefs on the walls show Hathor giving birth to her son by Horus, Ihy. But, there were many other gods and goddesses identified with pregnancy and birth as well. Taweret was one of them, a hippo. Many charms of different stones were found carved into the shape of this goddess. Bes, a dwarf, was another of the deities invoked to protect pregnant women and ease birth. Like I mentioned early, Egyptian mythology is incredibly multifaceted.

*Isis is a character that often took on all the qualities of the other goddesses. She was the greatest of these, and the others seemed to be her other aspects, extensions of her.  Rome, Greece, Egypt and other countries in the Mediterranean area held her in high esteem at the time and dedicated several temples to her. Her cult following was extremely popular. Her name means throne.

          Author's note: I hope that chapter wasn't too long for ya. I guess I got a little carried away! Well anyway, please review, I need the encouragement!


	20. What One Knows

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note: I realize it's been awhile since I've updated. I graduated this year(woohoo) and have spent the summer running amuck and trying to find a job. I just got a job so that's been my excuse of late, but I've also been rather disappointed by the fact that I haven't received reviews for my last couple chapters. No offense to all of you that have reviewed, I thank you ever so much for the support! But since I haven't received the response I've wanted, and also due to my new working status, I've decided that I will bring _Strategos and Sitiah_ to a rather abrupt close. I'd wanted to tell the whole story, but I feel that it's not necessary to drag it out if there is not an interest. So I shall end without telling the whole story. Perhaps if there is an interest in a continuation I shall come back to the keyboard, but as of now _Strategos and Sitiah_ shall have three, maybe four or less chapters left.  Big thanks for those of you that have stuck with me! Lots of love!

                   ArsinoetheXVII

          Miles from the red and black lands of Egypt was the capitol of Fanelia, Folken's great city.  Devoid of the deserts, river valley, and palm trees that graced Egypt, Fanelia stood amidst the deep green of verdant forests.  Folken had expanded the city to the heights of the mountains, where villas with acres of grassy knolls perched, overlooking the vale.  Nestled between the woods and gray peaks of rock the city thrived, the homes cluttered together snugly.  The very capitol of Gaea, the crowning glory of Strategos' empire, stirred with a flurry of activity.  Government was carried out in the district closest to the palace, leaving the rest of the enormous village for the merchants, trades, and housing.  Of course there were temples scattered about here and there, the many deities all enjoying their own private centers of worship.  Even gods once foreign to the capitol were given their due in houses of white marble and soaring columns.  Isis was a favorite among the locals, as well as outsiders who stopped at her temple to do her homage.  It was common knowledge that even the Empress of Gaea was quite fond of the 'Mistress of Magic'.  She made frequent trips to the temple just past the district of government.  

          She knew that day she should go, if only to keep up appearances, but she couldn't find the energy to rouse herself from the chair.  Her routine had gone as usual, up until that point in the late afternoon and she had nothing to do.  But the truth was she had something to do, it was the same thing that she did on every Wednesday afternoon, and sometimes on Saturday.  She could not find the strength to stand, to get up and order the carriage around.  She had always prided herself on being indifferent to the opinions of others, above the rumors and speculations.  What did she care if people whispered about her?  She didn't, at least she had thought that she didn't.  

Staring out the French doors of her room she reprimanded herself for the weakness.  The rain streamed down the glass before her eyes as lightening streaked across the dismal sky.  Another sigh escaped her lips as she told herself that the weather was a perfect excuse not to leave her rooms.  She closed her eyes, wishing that there were no other reasons for her lack of enthusiasm.  But she hadn't proved impervious to gossip after all.  What was worse was that she had personally denied it, knowing deep down that the hearsay was valid.  Denial was an attribute she had always admonished in others, crediting it to a fragile sense of self.  Finding it in herself had been a shock, and a striking blow to her normally untouchable esteem.  She had chosen to play dumb when the shameful accusations about her husband had first been brought up.  Of course no one had directly commented to her, but she had always had a keen ear.  She had first heard them passing the offices of the general on her way to a council meeting.  She had slowed upon hearing the voices.  The young men guarding the doors had been speaking in hushed tones.  They had not spoken quietly enough.  

          _"…On a barge going down the Nile. The queen shares her quarters with him. They say that sometimes they're closeted alone together for hours." _

_          "I heard that too. Some people are saying that she's a practitioner of Eastern magic; I bet she's placed a spell on him. She's a part of an evil cult, I swear it!"_

_          "She's worked some kind of magic alright, but it has little to do with a cult," The other snickered, "I've seen sketches of her, they've been selling them in the markets ever since the news of the affair reached Fanelia. She's very beautiful with dark eyes and hair. I've heard she's got a great figure too. Besides, she's from the East; women there are all very casual about sex…"_

_          "How strange, a man like Strategos falling for a woman from the East! I mean, he was reluctant about his own marriage to Princess Eries, and he's never been known to take lovers. The Queen of Egypt must be very appealing…"       _

She had comported herself as usual within the meeting hall, but her mind had not been on the matters of state being discussed.  For the first time since she had admitted herself to the Board of Elders she'd had no comment on the debated affairs.  Try as she might she could not focus on more than a few words of the conversation.  Fragments of the exchange in the hall replayed in her head, words and phrases echoed nonstop like "magic", "affair", "dark eyes", "East", and "Strategos".  But none of the men and women of the board had noticed, except Tiernan.  The young man had seen the absent look in her eyes and had immediately become concerned.  He glanced at her maid in the corner, but the girl gave a small shrug.  The apprehension was in her eyes as well, she too had noticed the change in her lady.  His homeland was an isle in the far western ocean, past Gaul.  His accent reflected the colorful language of his people from the green hills of his beloved nation.

          "Empress, you seem a might pale, is there something I can do fer ya?" He had leaned towards her, his gentle green eyes lit with worry.  She had always enjoyed the sound of his voice, and it did not fail to bring a small smile to her face as she looked at him.

          "Am I… Well no matter, I shall be fine. Thank you, Tiernan," She replied quietly.

          He shook his head, saying quietly, "Forgive me for sayin' so, your majesty, but ya don't seem fine. Please, if there's somethin' I can do, don't hesitate to ask me."  As always his light green eyes seemed intent on hypnotizing her, pulling the truth from her.  He was an honest young man, witty, and bright.  She had found him to be trustworthy as well, and though sometimes he was too blunt for his own good, she thought him charming.  But just then, her heart was too flustered to be soothed by his good intentions.

          She sighed, "Perhaps not, but there's little to do about that now. I'm grateful just the same, Tiernan."

          "I understan'," He chuckled, "I'll shut my big mouth… But if you find there is somethin' that can wipe away the frown on your face, let me know."  She nodded turning her head away as the slightest blush rose to her cheeks.  The chat between them had gone unnoted by the members of the board to Eries' relief.  And as she sat reminiscing about the dialogue she wondered if the young man was aware of the rumors circulating.  Rumors, they had never pierced her world before, but now that they had, and the affect was depressing.  Still she felt an unwavering loyalty to her husband.  She would hear the truth from his lips before she passed judgment.

          "Lady Eries?" Seneca spoke quietly before her mistress had even realized she had entered.

          Getting to her feet the empress turned to look at her near the door, "What is it?"

          "Your sister has come to ask if you'll accompany her to the Temple of Isis," The young woman answered, her eyes intent on the empress's face.  Her brown eyes were emotionless, yet Eries could still detect the searching quality in them.  Eries pursed her lips a moment as her eyes fell to the floor.  Finally she looked up at the servant and nodded, folding her hands together calmly.

          "I imagine she is waiting in the carriage. Yes. I'll join her. But if you please, I'd like to go alone with her. Would you mind staying and readying my letter to mail to Strategos?" She said no hint of the anxiety she felt rising in her voice.  For a long moment Seneca said nothing, staring at her with a probing determination.  

          "As you wish my lady," She conceded, sketching a small curtsey.  Though she felt dismal and oddly unsure of herself, Eries managed a smile to thank her handmaiden silently.

          "There are some proposals on my desk as well, will you see to it that they are delivered to Tiernan Gavin? A letter to Council Woman Lenora is among those papers, I'd like you to hand deliver it to her yourself with the greatest discretion," Eries took the cloak from the back of her chair and draped it over her arm.  Seneca only nodded.  As the empress walked to the door ready to exit she murmured softly, "You needn't look so concerned, Seneca, I'm capable of composing myself without your added worry."  Eries stopped, her hand on the door, hesitating as the feeling of dread stole into her again.  Several minutes passed in the gloomy quiet as the rain continued to splatter against the palace.  The two women were keenly aware of the low spirits of each other, and seemed to commiserate in the silence.  

          Seneca's mild mannered voice finally broke the trance, "Forgive me my Lady, but I feel I should tell you what is on my mind."  She paused, then went on in a rather quick pace, her words gentle, yet ringing with solemn certainty, "You may not realize it, but for the last three years that I've served with you I have come to know you as well as I know myself. Though I am younger than your majesty by four years, and enjoy little status, I believe myself to be quite adequate at seeing truth as it stands. 

"In that light, may I say that I truly believe that whether or not the emperor has been unfaithful to you- which I'm sorry, I think to be the case- he has no intention of calling off the marriage. One, for reasons relating to political alliances, as you well know, but also for the solid fact that he cares for you. Perhaps his feelings are not romantic in nature, but despite that I believe he has no intention of hurting you. He may think more on your union than you currently think. I have no right to try and interpret Lord Folken's actions, any more than I have the right to claim I know what you are feeling. Still I find it imperative that I tell you that I strongly feel that he loves you in his own way. Foolish I may be, but naïve I am not. I see things plainly, empress, it is the only way I know to see things. Therefore, I can swear by what I've said."  All this time the young maid had not wavered in her resolve.  There was no cause to believe she was only saying what her mistress wanted to hear.  No, Seneca was not one to mince words, nor was she a dishonest woman.  Eries accepted her words without disillusion.

          With a heavy sigh Eries looked down at her hand on the handle of the door, "I know you speak truth Seneca, and I thank you for your confidence… I wish it was enough to dispel this uneasy feeling in my heart."  That said the empress opened the door and left to accompany her sister to the temple of an eastern deity.  A deity identified with the very woman whose name would plague the empress's mind for weeks to come.

                                                ***

          They'd been playing for hours, and still neither of them could outmaneuver the other.  It seemed they were equally matched.  The board between them was made of the finest Lebanese wood, gilded with sheets of thick gold.  The pieces fashioned of semi-precious stones had seen years of use and shone with the effect.  Senet was an ancient game played since the time of the Egyptian kings.  Indeed this particular board had at one time been in the possession of Seti the I, father of Ramses the Great.  But its heritage was of little consequence to the two players who quietly passed the time, looking up every now and then to gaze at one another, only to look down again, color rushing to their cheeks.  

The queen looked on from her couch beneath the white sunshade erected over the dais near the bow of the barge.  She lounged silently, propped up on one elbow, her eyes mysterious orbs of deep brown.  Contemplating nothing in particular for almost as many hours as her handmaiden and the young prince had gamed, Sitiah seemed a statue among the luxurious trappings littering the deck.  

They had anchored outside of Syrene, near the first cataract, in an unpopulated area on the bank.  Of course the queen had been invited to take up residence in the governor's house, but she had declined, preferring to stay in her sumptuous cabin on the Royal Barge.  Tents dotted the banks where the cooking was done, and where the small army of servants, sailors, and oarsmen made camp.  

Sitiah could see Philae from where she reclined, her eyes often moving to the marble columns of the temple perched on the isle.  But she had made no indication that she meant to journey there, at least not yet.  Lately she seemed content to lie about resting against a mountain of pillows on the deck.  The Nile was as much a part of her as the capitol, so it seemed odd that she blamed her inactivity on nausea.  Still she managed to take up a regal pose on the throne whenever they rowed through one the provinces whether great or small.  People lined the banks to see pharaoh, showering the water with flower petals, and calling out their blessings upon the goddess as she passed.  

Sitiah put on a marvelous show, decked out in Egyptian fashion, the crowns of upper and lower Egypt fit on her head, her eyes elongated with kohl and painted with gold, a thick pectoral of lapis, carnelian, jasper, and gold covering most of her chest.  She even donned the tight fitting sheath of the Egyptian women, as well as the gilded sandals whose soles were designed with the images of bound foreigners, a sign that pharaoh crushed all Egypt's enemies.  Her whole person was illuminated by the precious jewelry on her arms, hands, and in her ears, even her ankles were clasped with gold bracelets.  The common people, who rarely glimpsed any grandeur outside of the field, were elated, stopping everything to see the wealth of their ruler on display.  The fact that Sitiah was immersed in the old religion, gave the people greater cause to worship her.  Priests welcomed her readily into the inner sanctums of the temples she visited, praising her as the goddess, and accepting the offerings she poured into the treasuries.  With the priesthood's backing she was truly the pharaoh of the two lands, and the people of Egypt knew it.  

Strategos watched all this with mild fascination as they traveled noting how her following grew, and her power increased with the religious acts she preformed.  He was rather in awe of the whole thing, especially in the way she held herself.  Despite her delicate structure she was able to stay perfectly statuesque in all the pharaonic regalia, though the weight was considerable.  The crowns alone were enough to hinder a person from moving too quickly to make a gesture or turn in a certain direction.  But Sitiah managed to stay composed and put up an impassive front, even on days when she was feeling exceptionally weary.  

As they continued their inspection of the temples and site seeing, Strategos increasingly noticed that sort of malady taking over her.  It was she that had ordered their rest for the day, putting up in direct vision of the sacred island.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, from his place next to the rail.  She seemed fine, if not a might healthier.  However, there was a different air about her in general, one he only speculated about, rather reluctant to bring it to her attention.

As though she could sense his thoughts, she turned her gaze to him, staring at his back.  With a sigh, she swung her feet to the floor and got to her feet, moving elegantly toward him despite the tight sheath hugging her figure.  At his side she stopped, her eyes again resting on the temple across the way.  He waited, content to let her say what it was she had come to.

When she spoke her voice was soft, with a hint of distraction, "When I was a child, my father told me that one day I would control Egypt's destiny. That the people would look to me for guidance. 'Pharaoh embodies Ma'at, and brings the gods' blessings to the land' he said. And that pharaoh's happiness can only be when the people are content. Without that contentment, the gods would be displeased, and no blessings could be had."  Suddenly her eyes were awash with tears and she turned to him, "Is this what it's like to be blessed by the gods?"  She shook her head, looking towards Philae again swallowing her abrupt grief.  For a moment she was silent as she steeled herself against her rising emotions.  Stern with determination she looked at him again, "Only when the people are full with Egypt's grain will I bring food to my lips again."

He frowned at her his eyes narrowing as he tried to call her bluff.  But he saw no sign of deception, only a stubborn hardness.  He knew very well that this was again about the demands Fanelia made for Egypt's grain.  From behind him he heard the sound of her physician's shock.  Olympus had gone pale, halting his approach toward them.

Sitiah heard as well, turning too quickly to look at him.  She lost her balance, her eyes suddenly heavy as she dipped forward.  Strategos steadied her, catching her before she could fall to the deck.  He lifted her into his arms, noting the difference in her weight.  She did not protest, ignoring the cry that had erupted from Olympus and even the gasp of her Prophetess.  It was only when she heard the clatter of the Senet board that she snapped to attention.

"Isa," She scolded, struggling to see over Folken's shoulder, "That board has been in my family's possession for decades. Take care you don't lose even one of those pieces."

"Um- yes my lady." Isadora replied uncertainly, her eyes dropping to the upset board and the pieces about the deck.               


	21. The Unexpected

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

*Author's Note: Again to remind you, this fiction will be drawing to a close.  I'm sorry to those of you who are disappointed. Still, I might decide to continue in another fiction, but not for a while, and only if there is an interest. Besides, this fiction was getting rather long, and I think it'd be best if I continued in another fiction. Having so many chapters is kind of intimidating to those who don't wish to stare at the computer screen for too long, no matter how good the fiction is. Also, I might be pulling _Seducing Setesh_ from ff.net because of lack of interest. It's rather futile to mention, but again, those of you who like Egyptology should take a look at it, if not for the story for the historical notes.  Anyway, thanks again for the support and I hope you enjoy the last few chapters of this fiction.  There are most likely three more chapters after this.

          *Imagine my surprise when I open up my mailbox and find that all six of my emails were reviews!  Thank you so much Enzeru No Yami, you're a doll! Your support means a lot to me! And because of your consideration, I'm seriously considering going into a second edition of _Strategos and Sitiah_, but not for a while. As I explained earlier I've been rather busy working.  But I would love to continue, so when I get the spare time I'll see what I can do!  Thanks again to you, and all others who've reviewed of late!

          Olympus frowned with grim certainty as he brought his hand from the woman's tiny wrist.  For a moment his eyes remained on her sleeping face, watching as she breathed peacefully.  He rose from her side on the bed, stepping beyond the netting, and then pulling it closed behind him.  He sighed as he plunged his hands into a basin of cool water scented with lilies.  When he had dried his hands he turned to the man standing at the end of the bed, staring thoughtfully at the young woman beyond the gauzy curtain.  Olympus' eyes hardened as he fixed the man with a less than friendly gaze.

          He spoke quietly, yet the disapproval in his voice was apparent, "She'll do as she says, you realize. She won't touch any morsel until she gets what she wants."

          Without taking his eyes from the woman his manner changed, becoming just as sullen as Olympus.  "I'm well aware of her obstinacy, Physician." He replied coldly crossing his arms over his chest.

          "Yes well, I suppose I'd be giving you too much credit if I assumed you realize what damage it could do to her body." Olympus spoke waspishly, trying to keep his tone from being obviously frigid.  He glanced at the girl once more to be sure that the sleeping potion was indeed having an affect on her.  She had not stirred, and so he looked back at the Emperor.

          "You would do well not to push me, Physician." The Strategos glared, the threat glittering in his eyes.

          Nonplussed Olympus snorted, "I would not think of offending you, Great Strategos."

          "You have already done so," Strategos retorted, his body rigid with feverish anger, though his face was like ice.

          "You've corrupted her! She was innocent before you stepped foot in Egypt!" Olympus hissed, refusing to back down from the bigger, stronger man.

          Incredulously Strategos gave a short laugh, "Innocent? Guileless? These are not words that have ever had basis in that woman's life! Not a desert viper like her!" He shook his head insistently.  Both men seemed to take a deep breath at the same time as they faced off, egos battling fiercely for dominance.

          Having no other ammunition and completely flustered Olympus shot back without thinking, "That desert viper is the Queen of Egypt and the mother of your child!"  The silence was infinite and thick in the air between them.  The look of utter shock on the Strategos' pale face gave Olympus cause to realize his error.  He was sure his queen would be furious if she were to know that Strategos had known before her.

          "A child." He managed to utter, his arms dropped to his sides in a sign of helplessness.

          Olympus sighed, knowing it was too late to cover his mistake with a lie.  He nodded, suddenly looking incredibly weary, "Yes. A son. It was prophesized long ago that her firstborn would be male to share her rule when the time came."  His eyes intent on the man, he insisted urgently, "He is your son, Strategos. Your heir."  Unsure of what had prompted him to say such words, Olympus waited for the man to answer.  He did not see the somber realization that swept over Folken, causing his eyes to flicker and his hands to ball into fists.

          "You are free to go, Physician." Folken said, his voice carefully unemotional.  The message was clear, Olympus, stone-faced bowed and stalked to the door.

          Just as Olympus was about to exit, the Emperor added, "Send a servant with proper food… And a scribe to take down a message to the commissioner of grain in Alexandria."  The physician only nodded feeling a sudden weight lifted from his shoulders though he gave no sign of it.  He left, as a new burden rapped heavily at his conscience.  The queen would be most displeased by the advantage Olympus had most carelessly waved before the Strategos.  He winced as he pictured the look his lady would most certainly favor him with.

          "I cannot imagine Strategos as a father," The Prince spoke thoughtfully from behind her, "And to be honest, I can't really see your queen nursing a child."

          "Neither can I." Isadora sighed, the night breeze touching her face and toying with her hair.  The sound of the sailors and servants floated from the bank as the guards called out to one another that the perimeters were secure.  Stillness had stolen over the Nile's waters that mirrored the not-quite-full moon.  Philae was bathed in silver, giving the white temple an ethereal presence that caused even the Fanelian Prince to wonder at its secrets.  His eyes left the sacred island to rest on her unreadable face.

          "Are you worried?" He sat down next to her on the deck.

          "No," She replied calmly, hugging her knees lightly to her chest, "I'm not sure I'm worried exactly… It just means that things will change for us. Things have always changed quickly for the queen, and I have always been by her side. But it is different this time, this time I cannot feel what she's feeling." Her eyes darkened with emotion as she kept them fixed on the dusky waters; still her voice remained steady, almost emotionless, yet she could not hide the fluctuations of her voice from him.  "I've always been able to commiserate with her. It's a bond we've shared ever since we were children together. But now I can barely sense it. And I wonder if it's because someone has taken my place. Someone has taken on the duty of being her confidante and most trusted friend."

          Van was silent, considering her for a time before he questioned gently, "Does that sadden you, Prophetess?"

          She did not answer right away, thinking on the question posed.  Finally she knew that she felt no ill will toward the man that had taken her place.  After all she had always known that one day she would no longer be the only one to share the queen's thoughts.  She turned toward him, tucking her legs to the side of her.  With a sigh she shook her head, "No. Strategos is her soul mate. What has happened was meant to be. I know that she will always need me. And with this child I sense that she will need all the allies she can get."

          "Oh," Van sounded almost disappointed and she turned her head to look at him curiously.  He looked down awkwardly, and she could almost see the blush in his cheeks. "Well, if you ever need an ally- I- would not fail- to offer my help."  For a moment she stared at him in surprise, unsure how to answer.  Slowly she smiled, and reached out to place her hand lightly on his forearm.

          "And I will return the favor." She said, her voice barely more than a breathy whisper. When he placed his hand over hers she did not shy away, nor did she look away when he looked her in the eye.  He could not stop the hand that stole to her cheek.

          "You do not know how much I regret those foolish words I said to you the day after the battle."  He blurted, suddenly looking penitent.

          She blinked.  She'd forgotten the bitter exchange.  So much had happened since then.  Since they'd left from Alexandria's royal docks to journey the Nile, the Prince had been making a visible effort to include Isadora in all that he could.  When he was not working with the crew he was insistent on gaming with her, or hunting in the reeds with her by his side.  And often when she was attending the queen on the deck, and he working with the sailors, his eyes stole to her.  She had even caught the blush and sideways glance he'd cast her way when the men had been speaking too loudly about their lovers in the many seaports.  At first the attention had surprised and even unnerved her, but as they both overcame the awkward silences and nervous actions that passed between them they settled into a comfortable friendship. After being overly self-conscious at first, both had learned how to set one another at ease.  She could see past his bravado to understand his real emotions, and he could soothe her after she'd taken offense to one of his many thoughtless comments.

          *_"May I remind you, Servant, to whom you speak to! And as for your queen's graciousness I'd say she should take care not to forget that there'd be no Egypt for her to rule! She is only queen because my brother has allowed her to be!"_

_          "Sitiah is queen because it is her right! Not because you buffoons ran around with your swords!"_

          _"Don't be stupid! Just because that woman holds Strategos' interests in bed doesn't mean has complete control over this desert waste!"*_

          The argument came back to her, but seemed rather juvenile in her mind.  She thought it foolish that she had felt so insulted and made assumptions about his thoughts towards her.  She half shrugged, as her cheek warmed in his hand, her eyes falling to his hand that clasped hers.

          "I haven't really thought on it much… I know you did not mean to- I guess it just hurt my pride," Her lashes fluttered rapidly over her eyes, as she could not look at him.  She thought for certain that her cheek was burning a whole into his smooth palm.  When she looked up at him the moonlight was reflected in her eyes, dazzling the depths of her irises like the sun would the sea.  "Egypt is my home. Her people are my people, her queen my queen." Her voice was soft but strong and passionate.  She had stolen his breath away with such words.  He knew she spoke the truth, and at that moment knew her heart was in everything she did.  Awed by her beauty as much as by her incredible spirit he had to take a moment to remind himself to breathe.

          He had to swallow before he could speak, "You- aren't like anyone from here are you? You- are the gift of the moon."  Isadora could not help the girlish laughter that escaped her as she bit her lip, looking at him apologetically.  But he only smiled shaking his head sheepishly as he dropped his hand from her face.  He laughed, "I guess- that was pretty stupid- sounding, huh?"

          Squeezing his hand reassuringly she smiled, "I don't know. No one's ever said it to me before. At least- not like that."

          "Like what?"

          "Like they- were amazed by me." Her eyes dropped to their hands again.

          "Well I am," He said, staring away into the night, "Amazed by you."

That stirring voice in his soul echoed with joyous laughter.

          _"Hold onto her, Van! She is your destiny!"_

          _My destiny? _He wondered.  But the voice would say no more.

                                                          ***

Several hours passed in which he barely moved as he sat at her bedside watching her draw each breath as if in a trance.  Shadows filled most of the room, only a few oil lamps lit at the corners of the bed.  The glow outlined the angles of the man's face, betraying none of the thoughts that passed beneath the stoic surface.  He'd managed to ignore that nagging voice that spoke the words: "He is your son, Strategos. Your heir."  

He did not think of that now.  Now he was floating in a state of nonchalance, carelessness.  Little affected him in this frame of mind where it was like dreamless sleep, yet his eyes remained open and his senses attune.  If he waited for her to wake he gave no sign of it, his gaze unassuming, resigned.  So he sat, keeping his silent vigil like the Sphinx before the pyramids; his intentions a mystery.

                                                ***

          Faraway a young man felt his very existence threatened.  His stomach twisted with the knowledge that he would soon have a new rival to contend with for the power he most desired.  The wine glass fell from his hand, spilling its contents on the floor.  Like blood the liquid pooled into a crimson puddle on the tile near the man's feet.  He stared down at the ominous substance, willing a vision to take form in the wine so very reminiscent of the life that flowed through his veins.  His eyes almost as red he continued to glare at the spill his whole body strained with an eerie foresight.  For a moment even his men seemed to realize something was amiss, but the feeling was soon gone and they looked to one another for reassurance.  Only Chesta was left with the lingering feeling that a new player had entered the game of intrigue.  This player was weak, still unable to manipulate any aspects of fate, but he nevertheless had thrown a spoke into the wheel of the game.

          "You once said that Strategos would find his own demise in Sitiah. But she still poses a threat to our goals. Something small, but- significant is coming." Chesta spoke aloud.  He blinked suddenly as though he had just realized he was speaking.  A blush crept into his cheeks as he felt the gaze of everyone else in the room.

          Dilandau's eyes narrowed, walking slowly toward the slayer as though he were a new recruit to size up.  "What do you mean?" He looked down at Chesta, his chin lifted haughtily so that he literally looked down his nose. 

          The boy could not help but shrink away from his superior as he stammered, "Wh-what? I don't- ugh- I don't know- what you're asking."

          "What you just said! What did you mean by it?" Dilandau snapped impatiently.

          Chesta swallowed, his eyes seeking out anyplace other than his senior officer's face, "I- spoke? Ugh- I said- well- I really- don't know."  He could feel the sweat beginning to break out on his forehead and above his lip as Dilandau's eyes narrowed to slits.

          "Miguel, see if you can get wind of our informant in Egypt. I want to know _exactly_ what's going on." He said his eyes trained on Chesta's ever-paling face.

          "Sir!" Miguel saluted, bowed, and was gone in a matter of seconds.

          To Chesta's relief Dilandau's look became distracted and he turned on his heel away from him.  "Something is coming," He muttered darkly to himself as he glared at a point on the tile, "What?"  No one, not even Chesta had the answer.

*Just to let you know, Dilandau's character is supposed to be like Octavian (aka Gaius Octavius) in the real story.  Of course, the real Octavian was related by blood, being Caesar's grandnephew, and eventually his heir.  As Caesar had no sons, several men were contenders for his approval.  When Caesar died, he would need someone to take up where he had left off, and several men wanted that position.  Men including Marc Antony, Octavian, and Lepidus, all wanted to become Caesar's heir, thus inheriting Caesar's lands and title.

          The character of Marc Antony is reflected by Van.  Unlike Marc Antony, Van is not going to become Sitiah's (Cleopatra's) husband/lover.  Instead, Van wants to become Strategos'(Caesar's) heir and protect Sitiah's interests as her ally and friend.     


	22. Reluctant Responsibility

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Letter from Eries Aston De Fanel, Empress of Gaea:

To My Lord and Husband Folken Strategos, Emperor of Gaea,

I sincerely hope that your campaign has not been too laborious and that you have had time to rest after your endeavors in securing the eastern part of the empire.  The news of Pompey's death was not taken well here, as I'm sure you have guessed, but few blame you for his demise.  Most know that though you and Pompey differed in opinion that you respected him as a true rival and leader of the Fanelian Republic.  

I have read your letters, and am glad to hear that the Alexandrian War turned in your favor.  The Board of Elders was most impressed and pleased that the war was brought to a close so successfully.  I understand that there was extensive damage done to the capitol, and I wish you to convey to Queen Sitiah that I also grieve for the lost of Alexandria's many irreplaceable treasures.  I do so hope that her lovely city will be restored to its former glory for it is surely an example of beauty and culture to the entire world.

          The days grow short here; a sign that winter is nearing.  Preparations for your triumph have begun.  The people long to welcome you back to Fanelia.  As always Fate has taken you from your homeland and Fortune has smiled on you as you expand the empire for the glory of Fanelia.  I realize a conqueror cannot be tied down for long to one place, no matter how much he loves his own land.  But I pray the world will remain peaceful long enough for you to take a well-deserved holiday upon your return.

          Your Devoted Servant,

                    Eries Aston De Fanel

          The Strategos looked up from the letter, letting it roll up and then dropping it on the desk without a word.  He leaned back in his chair, his elbow on the arm, his chin resting on his fist as he stared across the deck.  It was a shame to admit that he had not thought of the woman he had left behind for most of the year in Egypt.  Then again, the past few months he had thought of little outside of Egypt.  He smirked as he realized that he had become so distracted by Sitiah and her concerns that he neglected to reply to several letters from the Board of Elders.  She had certainly become the unexpected element in his life.  And now another unanticipated element was bombarding him, and he had no way of controlling it.  There was no denying that he was shaken by this news, yet he could ultimately feel a growing excitement, after all he would be a father.

          _A father to a bastard son_.  He could not stop the thought from echoing within his mind.  He closed his eyes wincing at the pain it brought him.  _Eries.  _The woman's image flashed in his mind as he recalled the way she had looked on their wedding day, her pale face and golden hair partially hidden beneath a gauzy veil.  Before he knew it he was assaulted by another face, this one with a lioness' eyes and honey-brown skin.  They were two women very different in nature, and yet linked by one undeserving man.  His guilt was whole and consuming as it weighed on his heart.

          _Eries does not deserve to be treated so carelessly. She is a good woman, a suitable wife; loyal and respectful… A beautiful woman, and perfectly matched to me because she is patient, and understands my reasons for being away. Her strength is calm and veiled within her, yet apparent in her emotionless eyes… And there is Sitiah, headstrong and passionate. She is mysterious and fiery. Though she shares my love for a good challenge, she is impatient and spontaneous. We clash so often because we are both so free-willed and used to getting our way. But her strength is alluring and her love consuming… And her eyes…take me away from all my tiring responsibilities._  He sighed, his face dropping into his hand.  These thoughts were wearying.  He raised his head and opened his eyes only to stare at the temple.

                                                          ***

          "Olympus, you have greatly disappointed me," Sitiah spoke sternly as her handmaiden pinned the shoulder strap of her gown with a gold pin.

          Olympus only nodded, his face solemn as he stood before her.

          "The fact that Strategos knows due to your error is unacceptable," She continued with the reprimanding frown, staring at him as she held out her arms to be adorned with the gold bracelets.

          "Yes, I realize that, your majesty, forgive me." The Physician replied bobbing his head in reverence.

          The queen nodded, "You are forgiven."  Isadora slid the last of the bracelets over Sitiah's wrists and stepped to her side.

          "Thank you." Olympus replied humbly, bowing to her and giving Isadora a nod.  He turned away and left the room.

          Sitiah sighed, clenching her fists as she closed her eyes, "Damn Olympus and his unrestrained tongue!"  Isadora watched as she opened her eyes and moved to the bronze mirror.  Staring hard at her reflection Sitiah placed her hands on her stomach.  She was not yet showing her pregnancy, her belly for the most part flat, perhaps only a little fleshier.

          Picking up the cobra coronet from the table near the mirror Isadora commented, "Indeed, but Strategos would've found out sooner or later."

          "I would've preferred it be later," Sitiah scowled at her reflection.

          "Oh, my lady," Isadora sighed as she neared her, "You must learn to trust Strategos fully. After all, isn't it time you put your faith in someone other than the gods?"

          Sitiah frowned almost childishly, "I have faith in you."  Her servant's reflection appeared in the mirror as the girl went to stand behind her.

          "Yes, my lady, but I cannot give you an empire," Isadora said, setting the crown on the queen's brow.

          _That is right! I am the mother of Strategos' son! There is no reason he should not marry me! _ The glint in Sitiah's eye told Isadora that she was considering the opportunities she had not seen before. _I will give him the heir to his empire! A king to rule after Strategos and I have passed on! And it will be a king- I will have a son to claim Strategos' title and the kingship of Egypt!  _Sitiah's face had brightened, but soon a cloud of doubt cast its shadow over her excitement.  _But what if he does not want this child? What if he sees it as only a burden to him? After all, my son is only a bastard.  _Sitiah's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in horror, her eyes widening.

          "Sitiah?" Isadora took hold of her arm, a look of worry spreading on her face.

          The queen closed her eyes, inhaling deeply to calm the rising panic.  Opening her eyes she calmly ordered, "Let the guard know I shall travel to Philae. Have a boat and oarsmen prepared."

          Isadora took an uncertain breath, nodding slowly, "Ugh- yes my lady."

          Sitiah smiled reassuringly, placing her hand on Isadora's that rested on her arm, "I'm fine, I just need the guidance of the goddess. Go. I will prepare by myself."

          "Alright." The Prophetess smiled.

          As Isadora paced to the door and exited Sitiah's smile faded.  She wrapped her arms around her stomach lightly feeling suddenly cold.  A wild desperation was clawing at her mind and she shivered at the knowledge.  _My son cannot be a bastard. He must have a proper father! Eset, hear my prayer, let me become Strategos' world! Let him see only me!_

                                                ***

          Merle watched as the small vessel cut swiftly through the Nile's waters, heading toward the island.  The morning sun glinted off of Sitiah's crown.  "Egyptians certainly are strange," The girl said, as she turned, "I don't know how anyone could stand visiting so many temples!"

          "Well if you pray to one god you have to pray to them all," Gaddes shrugged, his hand on his hips.  Merle wandered past him to sit on the dais near Van's leg.  The prince sat on a stool before a table that held the valued Senet board.  Reeden across from him, perched on another stool, stared at the board bewildered.  The rules of course had been explained, but he still felt rather lost.

          _Man, I wish that prophetess hadn't gone off with the queen! I certainly wouldn't be sitting here getting my ass beat at this damn game! _ Reeden scratched his head before moving one of the ivory pieces.

          "I find such faith inspiring. Egyptians are so very devoted, in life and in death," Allen commented from Strategos side.

          Merle shuddered, "Yes, but they are so fascinated by death. Their culture embraces it. It all seems- odd."

          "True, but isn't embracing death better than fearing it? They live each day as though it goes on forever. They prepare for death, but also for the life **_after_** it," Allen stared toward the temple, his eyes full of a strange emotion.

          "Huh," Gaddes snorted, "A little morbid, I'd say."

          "I don't really think so," Van spoke never raising his eyes from the board, "They believe that life will be just as it is now. That their family will be waiting for them in the afterlife… That the love they have now will remain even in death."  He held an emerald piece between his fingers and held it up to the light, gazing at it thoughtfully.  These words hung in the air, pressing on the minds that truly heard their meaning.  Merle slowly looked toward Allen, happening to catch his blue eyes.

          Strategos frowned as he sat perusing the document before him.  Love was a matter he certainly didn't wish to hear about.  "Well, let's leave the thoughts of death to the Egyptians and concern ourselves with life- and the work we do in it." Folken reminded them seriously.  He looked up, listening carefully to the sounds of the waves lapping against an approaching vessel.  A sailor called out to the skiff, asking for identification.  The reply did not quite reach Strategos ears.  He waited as the sailor relayed the message in Egyptian to a group of servants.

          "My lord emperor," One of Sitiah's nameless attendants rushed toward the table.  He went down on his knees in the traditional Egyptian fashion.

          Strategos frowned at the interruption, "Speak."

          "A messenger has arrived from Fanelia with urgent news," The man said, sitting back on his heels.  The emperor's eyes darkened as he nodded.  After bowing low again the man rose to his feet and turned to speak with the sailor.  A few more moments passed in which the proper exchanges were made as a Fanelian soldier boarded the barge.

          It was obvious by his worn and dirty clothing that the soldier approaching the Strategos had made quite a journey to deliver his message.  Sweat trickled from his brow making streaks in the grime on his face, his cheeks reddened by the unrelenting Egyptian sun.  When he had formally saluted to Folken, he did so curtly, his manner cold.  He did not waste time addressing his superior properly, but plunged into inform him of the reason for his arrival.  His face was stony and still, yet the Strategos could hear the slight disdain in his voice, "My apologies for interrupting your leisure, Emperor, but I bring disturbing news from the capitol."

          Strategos' eyes narrowed, but he urged him on evenly, "I am listening."   

Despite the dour look of the man he faced the soldier plunged into his story without apology, "King Pharnaces has led an uprising. He has taken Colchis and Armenia."  Stunned silence followed, until a general gasp arose and the sound of the precious gaming pieces of the Senet board hitting the deck and table.  Finally Strategos' men responded with cries of outrage, the shock giving way to fury.

"Damn him! That contract with Pompey meant nothing!" Allen slammed his fists onto the table his eyes flashing to a stormy navy color.  From her place near Van, Merle watched Allen with fretful eyes, her back straight and rigid.

Reeden had gotten to his feat, his face flushing with heated emotion, "That bastard! Kissing our asses one minute then killing our men!" 

"Not just our men," Van's voice was strained with quiet rage, "There were Fanelian citizens in those provinces. He has completely wiped away any hope of receiving Strategos' clemency by shedding innocent blood."  The words of anger continued among the emperor's men, only Strategos himself did not comment.

His mind was feverish with guilt.  _I have remained in Egypt too long! It is as if I had left this earth completely! The world has fallen back into chaos without my guidance! What a fool I've been; thinking I could escape for a time from the burden I bear with no consequences.  _His eyes flitted to the temple, his gaze seemingly betraying nothing.  But if one looked close, one could see the stirring of sadness, reluctance, in his eye.  _Ah, but how refreshing it's been to shed my general's cloak. How very wonderful it's been to share my thoughts with another soul…But it is time to wake up from the dream. It is time I took my rightful place, as it is time for her to stand completely on her own._  His resolve hardened; he would not shirk his duties, he would not lay them at anyone's feet.

He stood, and his pulsing energy quieted the discontent.  "Send word to all corners of my empire. I shall return to Fanelia once I have brought down Pharnaces and taken back what is Fanelia's. Let all provinces and kings know that Strategos' eminent rule will not be disregarded without retribution."  His mind was made up; nothing could keep him from righting the wrongs that had been done, nothing and no one.

*Author's **Final** Note: The next update shall be the final chapter of Strategos and Sitiah. I'm going to try to make it my best! I really hope you have enjoyed this fiction.  It's been a great venture for me. I would love to continue, but I haven't received much feedback for my last several chapters, and feel it would be in vain. Thanks so much to all of you've that stuck with me! You're kindness is so heartwarming, it truly is! It's hard to describe exactly how much positive energy one gets from reading favorable reviews. But to sum it up, I love you all! Thanks for taking time to review and assure me that I've created something original and interesting.  This is my last Author's Note, so long, farewell, adieu, and all that good-bye stuff!  Thank you so much!


	23. Conte Partiro

Disclaimer:  I do not own Escaflowne.

Note: Final chapter is quite long.

                     Her prayers fell silent, a chill zipping up her spine, so cold that it gave her pause.  The feeling crept into her belly.  Was it the child stirring? No.  For that moment ritual was forgotten, even the Mother Goddess was brushed aside in her thoughts.  Sitiah took a breath, and continued the invocation, her eyes refocusing on the lapis lazuli figure of Isis.  But the winds were changing, the desert dunes shifting, and she was not the only one to feel it in that instance.

                     "Damn! I felt it again! What the hell is that, Chesta?" Dilandau demanded reaching out toward the soldier.  He had paused on his way down the steps of the Senate.  His guards around him paused as well, watching him anxiously.  Chesta rushed to his right side to take his arm.

             "I'm here, General," He eagerly watched the side of his commander's face.

              "Tell me what the hell I'm feeling. Tell me why I should feel so threatened." The General closed his eyes, speaking through gritted teeth, allowing his officer to steady him.  Chesta knew what he spoke off, he had felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the same moment, but he was wary of voicing his thoughts.  He licked his dry lips and cast an uncertain glance at the men over his shoulder.  To his relief, before he could give a hesitant reply, the sound of horsemen approaching disrupted the normal bustle of the Forum.  Screams of the merchants and buyers mingled with the shouts of the men bellowing to make way, along with the slap of hooves on the cobbles.  Both Chesta and his commander looked up to see a group of familiar soldiers arrive before the steps on horseback.  The lead horses had barely halted before their riders jumped from their backs and began to dash up the steps toward the general and his men.  The obvious leader stopped and went to one knee before Dilandau, saluting the general with a fist to his heart.

          "My lord, another province has been raided by Pharnaces." The man got to his feet, taking a moment to catch his breath and study Dilandau's reaction.

          The shrewd magenta eyes narrowed, but the General said nothing.

          A young officer mistaking Dilandau's reaction offered hopefully, "But do not worry. It is doubtless that Strategos has been contacted by now. He will come and avenge Fanelia."

          Dilandau paled, his fury so white-hot that he could not utter a word, but growled low in his throat.  But if there was one thing politics had taught him it was to mask his personal feelings toward men of power.  He smiled, but to the soldier who had spoken it seemed more like a wolf baring its fangs.

          "Yes, I have no doubt that Strategos will bring Pharnaces under his heel. I shall send him my own reinforcements for the coming battle." His eyes gleamed, which to the soldiers who did not know him seemed like the light of determination, but to his own men it meant he had his own agenda.

          "Sir," The commanding officer smiled, "I have no doubt that both forces together will crush any resistance."

          From behind the General's group a man called to them, "Lord Dilandau, a meeting of the Senate has been called to discuss the news. We request your presence."

          Dilandau turned back to nod in agreement, "Of course."  There was no rest for the wicked after all.  And he need not worry about Strategos for now.  The closer he was the easier it would be to get rid of him.

                    It was hard to catch a glimpse of Strategos in the activity on the deck of Sitiah's barge.  As Sitiah and her entourage boarded they were nearly swept aside by the men hurrying to and fro with luggage and supplies. 

          The disregarded queen frowned, her heart beginning to race with anxiety.  "What is going on? What are you doing?" She demanded as a dirt- smudged soldier passed her a crate in his arms.  But the man merely grunted, shooting her a reproachful look.  At first she was stunned, surprised by the amount of hatred she'd seen in his eyes, but that wore away and was soon replaced by anger.  A part of her longed to follow him until he turned to face her… But she had grown up in the last few months; she was still as willful as ever, but not so prone to impulsive acts of fury.  She quelled her indignation, balling her fists at her sides and once more began to scan the deck for Strategos.  As always he seemed to be in the middle of the confusion, the center of whatever was going on.  He stood at a table, his most capable officers around him as he mapped his battle plans.  She could see it in his face as he spoke to them; something very vital was happening, and she was certain she would not like it.  She steeled herself against the rising fear in her, and set him with a solemn stare.

          After dismissing most of her retinue, she headed calmly towards Strategos.  A path was cleared for her almost instantly, the servants and soldiers avoiding her gaze as she passed.  She stopped in front of Strategos and the whole ship seemed to hold its breath as she stood there, awaiting an explanation.

          "Sitiah," Strategos greeted her with a cursory glance and a nod of his head.  She bristled as he continued in his conversation, blatantly ignoring her.  But again she maintained her calm.

          "I can see you are busy, **_Folken_**, so I shall keep this brief," She allowed herself the smallest sense of satisfaction at the slight insult she'd given, "As this is my vessel I believed I am owed an explanation as to what is going on."  He paused in his speech, but did not raise his eyes to hers for some time; she felt as though it were she that was holding her breath.  When he looked up at her his gaze was steady and he drew himself up, taking a soldier's stance.  She swallowed hard as she recognized the uncompromising certainty of his pose.

          He cleared his throat and spoke, "It has come to my attention that Pharnaces has been stirring trouble in the eastern-most Fanelian provinces. We are preparing to make a quick return to Alexandria and from there ready my fleet to depart."  The silence was deafening as though everything were waiting in stillness for Sitiah to break the spell.  Time passed slowly in the space between them making mere seconds seem like hours.

          Finally Sitiah's words came, strong and unwavering, "Then I wish you luck…"  She paused and then softly breathed out his name, "Strategos."  She said no more.  Her dark eyes said it all, speaking volumes of her fury, sadness, and fear.  For a moment longer she stared at him, no one but him seeing the emotions behind her seemingly emotionless gaze.  Sitiah turned and walked away, Olympus hurrying after.  It was Isadora that remained.

          In the temple, Isadora had felt the same foreboding feeling as Sitiah, and like her mistress was uncertain where it came from.  Now she understood that tingling of premonition.  She stood; her jaw dropped slightly, her green eyes wide. 

          "You can't- be serious…?" She spoke breathlessly.  The officers about Strategos awkwardly evaded her gaze.

          Upon Sitiah's retreat Strategos had dropped his hands to the table, his eyes falling to the map stretched before him.  But now he looked up at her, his eyes weary as though facing Sitiah had taken all his strength.  "I'm quite resolute about this, Isadora. Fanelia must come first."

          Those words seemed to echo in her mind, setting off something within her that she had not known was there.  "'Fanelia must come first'? That is all you have to say?" Isadora stared at him in indignant disbelief.  Her anger rose to the surface and burst forth.  "After **_all_** you have gone through with Sitiah you will abandon her- for your petty ambitions? For-for **_Fanelia_**? That is a weakling's excuse! You have plenty of legions- soldiers that are willing to fight in your name if you but ask! Why not send them, huh? Why is it, you **_must_** go?" She glared at Strategos scornfully.  The shock was hard-hitting and it left the table in silence for several moments.

          "Young Lady," An older officer spoke up sternly, "An Emperor cannot leave things such as this to a lesser man. Men will not follow a man who is not willing to take on a king for the sake of his kingdom."

          "Ha!" Isadora cried mockingly, her voice rising as the surge of rage continued, "Another excuse! This isn't simply about righting wrongs or regaining pride- it's about continuing your greedy quest for domination! Taking Pharnaces is just one small task. And don't think that my queen does not know that! She knows as well as I that it will not stop with Pharnaces! After all, what has this all been leading to? Why- **_Parthia_** of course! Why stop at crushing the rebellion when you can go on to conquer the rest of the East?! Have you even **_thought_** of your child, Strategos?" Her eyes narrowed as she challenged the man across from her.

          "Don't you think it is for my son that I do this, Isadora?" Strategos responded quietly, his eyes once more upon the map, surprisingly calm in the face of this changed Prophetess.

          But Isadora shook her head slowly, the anger draining slightly from her face.  She gave a soft chuckle, "And don't you think a son would rather have his father than a meaningless land across the sea?"  Again silence pervaded.  It was Van that dispelled it appearing from the other side of the barge.

          "I've managed to find a list of our supplies in Alexandria," He was walking up behind his brother, his eyes focused on the scroll in his hand.  When he stopped and looked up he was surprised to see Isadora standing before the table an indescribable expression on her face.

          "Isadora?" He wondered, his hands falling to his sides, the parchment forgotten in his right hand.

          Upon seeing him Isadora's eyes welled with tears.  She stated softly, "And you too Van. You will forget all that Egypt has meant to you- all that Egypt has had to offer."  Her voice finally wavered, finally gave sign of the ache that she was feeling.  She turned away before he could reply, not wanting to hear what he might say.  As she left the deck seemed to fill with noise again, life to move on.  But Van stood there, unable to tear his gaze from the place she had abandoned, his heart slowly crumbling.

                    The days that passed as they made there way back to Alexandria seemed agonizingly slow to Strategos.  No words passed between Sitiah and him, and though he longed to explain he could find no sufficient words; the silence remained, slowing the hours.  But to Sitiah, each day seemed short, each night lying in bed next to him too brief.  Their nights were cold, no longer warmed by Hathor's loving breath.  When Strategos unconsciously reached for her in the night she pulled away, his touch too reminiscent of what she would soon lose.  And he would wake, missing the smoothness of her skin, and the curve of her body curled up next to him.

          For Isadora, as well as for Van, the nights were spent tossing and turning in anxious longing.  During the day Isadora avoided him, remaining with her queen in the shadows of the cabin.  Each day he tried to catch sight of her, tried to think of any excuse to seek her out, but each day found him with more duties, more meetings with which to discuss the coming battle.

          In her heart Isadora knew Van was suffering as much as she, but she could not bring herself to face him and hear the words that would cause her even greater pain.  She remained with Sitiah, trying her best to care for the mother-to-be and raise her spirits, despite her own depression.

                    "I sure will be sad to go," Merle sighed as she shouldered a knapsack.

          "Yeah? Why is that?" Van asked softly, his voice sounding distracted as he sat in the windowsill of his chamber in the palace, plucking the petals from a Lotus.  Merle stood still, frowning in thought for a moment.

          She let the bag slide off her shoulder to the floor as she replied, "I'm not sure, really. At first I thought the place was really strange, so many temples to weird gods, and languages I can't understand. But- I guess it's grown on me. The temples are kind of soothing, and the people are all so different- it keeps things interesting."  She grinned suddenly, "Besides, Sitiah is very interesting to watch. Now that she's pregnant her moods will be even more unpredictable."

          Not even a smile from Van, who stared at the petal-less stem.  Merle sighed watching as he finally discarded the stem and stared out the window embrasure into the sunlit courtyard.

          "You know I think we're all going to miss it in our own way. But some have more reasons to regret leaving than others," She commented quietly, rubbing the silver ring on her finger.

          "Merle…would you do me a favor?" He asked after a few moments.

          "Of course," Merle looked up eagerly.

          He hesitated for a few moments, and then turned his face to look at her, "Will you stay and look after Isadora?"

                    The traffic at the docks was slowing as most of Strategos supplies had been stowed and the troops assigned to their ships.  Allen was overseeing the last of the placement of the supplies that Sitiah had generously given.  The gift was generous enough that some of Sitiah's own ships were being sent with the fleet to carry all the extra supplies.

          "That should be it, make sure the captains of the Egyptian vessels understand the formation we'll be sailing in," Allen clapped Gaddes on the shoulder.

          "Not to worry, a scroll has already been sent with those orders," Gaddes nodded, his hands folded across his chest.  Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed the girl, stepping out of the shadows behind them.  He cleared his throat, "Well, I best go make sure those have been delivered and there are no misunderstandings." He nodded to Allen and started off toward the mass of ships at the docks.

          Allen caught sight of the reason for Gaddes departure and smiled as she stepped to his side.  "Everything should be ready to go for tomorrow. Have you packed?"  Merle shook her head, her eyes on her feet.  Allen frowned slowly, turning to face her side.  He waited for her to speak, though he knew it was not good news that she bore.

          "I am staying, Allen. I'll be Lady Isadora's maid." She said, still unable to look at him.

          She listened as he took a wavering breath that spoke of his surprise.  "But-" He started.

          "Van is the one that asked me. But it was my decision. I like Alexandria- and Lady Isadora is really nice… Besides, I think I've seen enough battles. And Van wouldn't have asked unless it was important to him." She said quickly, turning to face him.  Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

          "I see," Allen replied with a nod, "As long as this is what you want."  He looked her in the eyes to be certain that she was.

          "It's what I want." She assured him solemnly.  Several moments passed as they held each other's gaze, the breeze from the sea gentle against their bodies.

          He smiled slowly and took her hand, "The best of luck to you then, Lady Merle."  He bent to kiss the back of her hand and then placed a kiss on her cheek.  With that he walked away, leaving the girl behind with a smile.

                    All day the anxiety in Isadora kept her busy, she would not stop to feel sorry for herself.  The palace itself was in a state of anxiety also as it readied for Strategos departure, and the farewell banquet in his honor.  Luckily with so much excitement there were a million things to keep her hard at work.  As Sitiah was still in a stupor, most of the details of the banquet fell to her.  By the time she went to Sitiah's chamber to help her dress, she was not sure she wanted to attend the festivities herself.  But she knew if she did not put on a brave front for Sitiah, the queen would not attend the banquet either.  After helping array the queen, Isadora surrendered herself to the expert hands of the other maids in order to prepare for the evening, which allowed her time to sit and think.

          As the women fussed around her, picking out the perfect jewels to match her gown, and choosing the right cosmetics, she thought about what the coming day would mean.  So much would change within that day, that it seemed a lifetime away.  Would all go back to the way it used to be before Strategos had come?  No, of course not.  Now Sitiah had a country to rule- practically on her own (young Ptolemy was kept out of politics to avoid another civil war).  Not only that, but there was the child to think of.  It had all come to a close too quickly it seemed.

          Suddenly she was thrown from the room against her will.  She could see Sitiah, a child in her arms, outlined by golden light.  And then trees surrounded her, trees so green they were like emeralds.  But the scene changed again and she felt herself moving, rocking as the ship she stood on bobbed against the waves.  Looking out from the deck of the ship she saw the sky was full of smoke, the sea choked with ships at battle.

          She was thrust back into her body, cold and shivering.  She coughed as she tried to get her breath, the maids clustered around her, watching her anxiously as they chattered.  When she had gotten her breath she calmed considerably, though her skin still prickled with the energy of the premonition. 

                    The feast was a great success, a glittering array of wealth ensconced with the spirit of cheer.

           Strategos and Sitiah had entered together to the blast of horns and the sonorous voice of a priest calling out the praise of the gods on them, and praising them as gods themselves; her the Daughter of Isis, him the Son of Aphrodite.  They sat next to one another on a raised dais at the end of the hall, looking as radiant as any true gods, Sitiah in her Egyptian dress and crown, and Strategos in his glorified battle attire.  They both glittered with gold, and seemed to complement the other perfectly, as they smiled for the benefit of the crowd.  But both were merely playing at being joyful, for when the night was over, the morning would bring their separation.

          "I've been meaning to talk to you, Sitiah…" Folken chose his words carefully, the feast going on around them so that few were paying them any mind.

          Sitiah took a sip of wine before she answered stiffly, "Of course, but you've been very busy. So busy it has even kept you from my bed at night."

          Folken hesitated, glancing away from her a moment before turning back to reply softly, "I did not think I would be welcome."

          She gave a humorless laugh, "Please, you are Strategos. Whether you were welcome or not did not matter. You do what you want after all."

          He sighed wearily, making an unconscious sweeping gesture with his hand, "I do not wish to go, Sitiah. But I must. I cannot leave the mission to someone else without fearing my position would become unstable. As it is there are already rumors of unrest in Fanelia. The Senate is unhappy that I have not returned."

          "Yes, of course, the Fanelian Senate…" She said coldly.  _And I suspect there are plenty of malicious rumors flying in your precious Senate about the eastern_ _queen who is carrying the bastard child you care nothing for!_  She longed to snap at him, but held her tongue.  Instead she asked icily, "And what of Egypt? How am I to keep her from flying into rebellion once you leave?"

          "Sitiah, I would not leave you without sufficient guards. A contingent shall remain here to keep the peace-"

          "You mean to make sure there is no question who truly holds Egypt!" She retorted, her cheeks flushing with the anger she had suppressed with silence.

          "No," Folken said, his patience strained slightly, "I **_mean_** to keep the peace… And to protect you, and my child." He finished softly.

          Sitiah felt her throat constrict, tears threatening to burst from her eyes, but she swallowed the rising emotion.  "That's very thoughtful of you," She responded, her voice husky as she curbed the ever present need to cry.

          He nodded and replied softly, "I would not do that for just anyone, Sitiah."

          "I know." She answered, her voice barely more than a whisper.  Suddenly she gasped as her stomach seemed to flinch.  He turned his face to her to ask, but before he could she took his hand and placed it on her belly.  He became very still as he felt the undeniably strong force within her.

          Finally she turned her face to look at him with a smile, "Our son."

          He swallowed hard and nodded.  But even as the child fell quiet he took her hand, and did not release it for the rest of the banquet.

                    There was no need for her to remain in the hall.  The entertainers had finished their acts, and the wine and food were still plentiful; no one needed her to supervise the rest of the night.  She slipped away from the noise and heat of the hall to reflect in the East Garden.  She had assumed that her exit had gone unnoticed, but she was wrong.  A young man watched as she drank in the moonlight, trailing her fingers across the surface of the water in the reflection pool.  She breathed deeply of the night air, listening to the distant voices of the guards and the murmur of the trees.  She did not realize how radiant she looked in the powder blue gown, her hair done up so that sandy curls fell to her half-bare shoulders.  The curve of her neck as she raised her face to the moon, was particularly enchanting, her skin so milky white.  Van forced himself to look deeper than the spell that held him; there were things he needed to say.

          He broke the silence between them with a thoughtful smile, "Do you recall dining with me in this very spot several months ago?"  She turned at the sound of his voice, more surprised than startled.

          She hesitated, staring at him with a mix of uncertainty and fear. _I've avoided him for so long, I'm not sure what to say. _

          "I remember," She finally nodded.

          _"It was that day that you realized you were in love with her," _The voice murmured.  This time he did not question it.  He walked toward her, a light in his eyes that she had not seen before; it was more than confidence, more than determination. 

          _What is it?_  She wondered, her hands clasping one another nervously.  As he walked a couple steps past her to sit on the marble edge of the fountain, she felt a faint flutter within her.

          He did not look at her as he said, "We'll be leaving tomorrow."

          "Yes, I know," Her throat was dry, the words almost sticking there.  The stillness echoed, in the time it takes for one to take a deep breath, the night was perfectly silent, waiting.

          "Hitomi, you must know… I don't wish to leave you," Van said, his voice steady, unwavering so that there was no doubt in her mind of the truth of his words.

          "Van," The emotions she had kept at bay broke forth as she began to cry silently.  Her hands clutched tightly together in front of her she dropped her chin to her chest as the tears flowed.  He got to his feet in response to her need and wrapped his arms around her.  There was no need to deny anything now, and she returned his embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder.

          "Listen to me, Isadora," He said, swallowing his own grief as well as the immense relief he felt.  "Be patient with me. I'll come back… But for now I must go. I'm leaving Merle with you to watch over you while I'm gone-"

          At this she drew back enough to look up at him.  She gasped, "You can't! She's been your companion for- forever! You can't ask her to stay!"

          He smiled down at her, loving the way she stared at him stubbornly, "I already have. It's settled. Don't worry, Merle wanted to stay. She likes Alexandria, and she's perfectly happy to serve you. I promise."  Isadora looked as though she was ready to protest again, but he silenced her, pressing his lips gently to hers.  When he pulled back, he smiled tenderly at the expression of surprise on her face, "I love you, Isadora. I want to be sure you're looked after while I'm gone."  Her face softened, her heart swelling at his confession.  In that moment she knew that all his feelings were returned.  He did not need to hear the words from her lips; the look on her face was enough to assure him.  As they kissed one another in the light of the moon, beneath an Egyptian palm, their bond was strengthened and Hathor smiled.  It was about time.

                    They were not the only two to feel the pull of goddess, to be bold in their love.  Within the royal bedchamber Strategos found his kisses and caresses returned as fervently as they were given.  And as they made love for the last time, Sitiah heard her lover murmur the words, "I love you." 

                    All of Alexandria it seemed had come out to witness the Fanelian fleet's departure.  But despite the throng of the crowd, the water steps of the palace were peaceful.  Strategos would take a smaller vessel to his larger ship docked in the bay.  This way his good-bye would be more subdued, more personal for him and those he was leaving behind.

          "I bid you farewell, Strategos. May the gods' grant you victory in your endeavors. You will always be welcome in Alexandria. May the soles of your feet be firm." Young Ptolemy smiled.

          "Thank you, your majesty. Your hospitality will be returned in full should you come to Fanelia," Folken bowed to the young man with a small smile.  Ptolemy nodded and turned to walk away, his entourage in tow.

          "I imagine you should have no trouble keeping him from taking an interest in Egypt's affairs," Strategos said after Ptolemy had disappeared.

          Sitiah grunted softly with a smirk, dismissing the comment.  _The trouble will come when my- **our**- son is born. _ She thought darkly, but made no response.  A sharp pang of loss strummed through her.  _I will be alone when I give birth to our child. Oh Strategos, how will I run things without your guidance?  _She forced away the thoughts of momentary self-pity and smiled, stepping forward to take his hands.

          "I'm sure Pharnaces will be more trouble than Ptolemy," She teased, though there was sadness in her eyes.  She frowned seriously, "You will be sure to update me on the situation, won't you? I want to hear everything."

          Folken gave her a half smile and was about to insist that she would be bored with battle talk, but realized whom he was speaking to.  Sitiah was no ordinary woman.  He nodded, squeezing her hands, "Of course."

          A few steps away out of anyone's range of hearing Van and Isadora stood side by side, hand in hand.

          "I realize you'll be very busy, but would you still write when you have time, please?" She asked softly.

          "Whenever I am not occupied with petty matters, I shall be thinking of you, and writing should I have the time. I promise, I'll write as much as possible," He assured.

          "Thank you," She replied with a smile, watching as the last of the crew boarded the small barge.  The captain called out that the tide was right for them to set out.  Isadora squeezed tighter to his hand.

          "Merle," Van called softly.  Merle stepped up to his right side.  "Take care of her." He looked over at his friend who met his gaze.

          She nodded, "I will. You take care of yourself."  Her voice was strong, but he could still hear the subtle strain to it.

          "I will," He smiled.  Her eyes misted slightly as she nodded.  She returned to her place a few steps behind them.  Van turned to stand in front of Isadora.  She looked up at him, her eyes dry and bright as the sun slowly cresting on the horizon.

          With his right hand he cupped her cheek tenderly, "Stay safe, Lady Isadora."

          "Hitomi, my name is Hitomi… I'll pray for you daily, Van," She replied, staring him in the eyes.  They kissed one another gently, and then embraced. 

As he pulled away he whispered in her ear, "Be patient with me, my love…Hitomi."  And then he was gone from her arms, walking away, his hand on his sword.  He did not look back, and she was glad.

          Strategos pulled away from their kiss to whisper fervently, "Do not do anything foolish, Sitiah."

          As he kissed her again, she opened her eyes to study his face.  When she drew back she insisted through gritted teeth, "Do not die, Strategos!"  Again they locked lips passionately, their ardor as great as any of the times before.  But the captain called out again.  Strategos gazed at Sitiah one last time, imprinting her memory in his heart, and released her.  He hurriedly boarded the boat and soon disappeared only to reappear with his back to her at the helm.  The ropes were drawn in and the oars pushed out over the water.  As the oars struck the water, Isadora went to stand at her queen's side.  They linked arms, griping one another's hands for comfort.

"Who would've thought Fanelia would suddenly mean the world to us?" Sitiah murmured with a bitter smile.  The oars were rising and dipping low into the water at an even pace, the barge slipping further and further away.  The Queen of Egypt watched the vessel drift away with the knowledge that Strategos would never return to Egypt.  But with no doubt she would see him again.

                                                           _Fin_


End file.
